


At the Beginning

by Sakuraiai



Series: Disney Arc [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, F/M, Galra Keith (Voltron), Inspired by Anastasia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, you know the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-11-16 13:16:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 64,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11253720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakuraiai/pseuds/Sakuraiai
Summary: Inspired by AnastasiaKing Zarkon of the Galra empire lost his only way in to the Kingdom of Altea. In his anger, he put a curse on the royal family. The young, adopted half Galran prince Keith disappeared when the palace was overrun, never to be seen again -- or so it seemed.The only surviving princess, Allura, grieving for her child, offers a reward for Keith's safe return.Con artists, Lance and his best friend, Hunk plan to pawn off a phony to the princess, hoping to reap the rewards. They hold auditions and choose an orphan man who has a remarkable resemblance to the missing prince -- all the way down to his fluffy Galran ears.





	1. Prologue - Run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ObsessedAngel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedAngel/gifts).



> I know Anastasia is not Disney, but I could not pass this opportunity up.

_Run…_

He needed to get away.

The dawn had come and the little Galran cub was tiring out. Breathing harshly, his footfalls thudding heavily against the mulch of the forest floor, the leaves and vines slapped against his purpling skin, snagging in his tail and his long cat like ears. He had been running through the forest ever since the sun had dipped into the horizon, and it was now making its was back up the sky, climbing higher and higher. And yet he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

It was  _his_  fault…all because he was a half breed…a detested kind.

Sucking in a lung full of breath, he hid behind a large clutch of trees. The branches and twigs stabbed into his skin, catching against his dark purple tinged black hair. He curled his long tail around his frail and bruised body. Holding his hands to his ears and pressing them down. His bruise splotched skin was matted black with his blood, his family’s blood.

His mother’s blood…

He hadn’t once looked back at his home, not once had he dared to stop. He had listened to his mother’s last words as she pushed him away, threw him to safety, and had run. He ran through his home, the only home he had ever known, through the busy streets, into the borders that surrounded their territory and broke through the barriers. And he had been running ever since.

Everything he had ever known was destroyed, everyone he held dear was dead. His mother…. _his mother..._

_“Run, my baby, run,”_

His home had been set ablaze. He could still smell the smoke, could still see the fire behind his eyes, could still see the shadows of the sentries and the Galra soldiers break into his house, he could still hear his mother screaming.

_“Run! My baby, run!”_

The fire had probably died out by now, leaving nothing but the husk that used to be his entire life. He was an orphan now. He had watched his father being killed by those soldiers, and his mother…

He couldn’t go back. He  _wouldn’t_ go back. He was going to run.

Catching his breath, he leaned back against the tree, tears stinging his bright yellow eyes. He darted his gaze through his hiding space and jumped in alarm. Three large sentries had stopped just outside the ring of trees he was hiding in. They were so close to him. They were  _right there._

He clutched his ears to his head and ducked down.

“Come out, freak,” one of the sentries spoke, his voice was grated and low.

The Galran cub shivered, coiling even more into himself.

Without warning, one of the sentries held their weapon out, creating a small cyclone of crackling light that sizzled its way from their hand and to the tip of the large machete like sword.

“We warned you!” Another sentry yelled, rushing into the trees.

The cub vaulted out from his spot, pushing away at the branches and ran as fast as he could. His bare feet thudded heavy and exhausted against the dead leaves, his breathing harsh and hot as he ran, and ran, and ran.

Turning a corner and jumping over a stray root, he tripped and fell straight down onto the roots of a large tree. His long ear caught in a thorny bark of the tree. He tried to yank it out, but the bark would not budge. Pain stung him, tears streamed down his face, and blood tricking from his ear. But he held his hand to his mouth, forcing himself not to cry.

“He came this way!”

He knew it would be impossible to free himself quick enough to get far away from the sentries, so he reached out to the moss and leaves surrounding the base of the tree and hid himself within them. His ear protested at being moved, but he forced himself to stay quiet.

One of the sentries rushed in through the trees, sickly slimy metal feet thudding solidly on the ground just a few feet away from him. He tightened his hand to his mouth, holding back a gasp when he saw the machete weapon hacking through trees and branches as if they were nothing.

“Where is he?” the sentry frowned, though it was hard to tell with the large visor like helmet that covered half of his face. He started looking around, pointing his machete at the dense shrubbery and hacking away at everything.

Another sentry appeared next to him. “You’re a disgrace to your own kind, half breed,”

The cub whimpered, wincing as it carried in the air. He tightened his grip on his mouth, squeezing tightly. But the sentries heard. The one with the machete held his weapon up and sliced it through the trees. The cubs’ eyes widened in fear, he forcefully yanked his head from the thorns, his ear screaming in protest as the thorns tore a line through the skin. He yelped, but sprinted out of the trees.

“He’s going into Altea!” One of the sentries yelled, holding his weapon out and slicing it through the vines just shy of the cub. “Stop him!”

But the cub kept running, his feet finding purchase against the muddy ground. His torn ear screaming in protest. His heart was beating madly. He knew Galran’s were not allowed on Altean grounds, especially in the main city of Altea itself. But even though he knew he would die in Altea, it was much better to die as a trespasser than be tortured as a half breed.

He could feel the pulsing magic surrounding the thick trees that bordered the city of Altea, and he prayed that nothing would happen to him. He had heard so many stories of unwanted outsiders’ trespassing into the city and combusting into ash on the spot. But this was a much better way to die than the alternative.

Taking one look behind him, he could see the sentries in the trees, and he knew what he had to do. He took a step forward into the borders and clenched his hands to his ears, holding them flat onto his head.

Nothing happened.

The cubs eyes widened, and he looked down to his hands, seeing them still there. He was still purple, but he was still alive. The barrier had let him through! He took another tentative step in to the forestry, tempting fate. But still, nothing happened. So he took one last look back to the sentries who were watching him. One had rushed in after him, and the cub floundered, stumbling backwards onto an upturned root.

The sentry hit the barrier and, quick as a flash, turned into dust.

Gasping, the cub quickly got up and sprinted through the forest and into the wide and wonderful city of Altea.

 

~~

 

“You are my best soldiers, and you couldn’t kill one little child?” Zarkon growled, clenching his purple clawed hand onto the arm of his throne. His harsh yellow eyes glared at the two sentries kneeling in front of him, each looking defeated and solemn.

“He got through the Altean border,” one of the sentries said.

Zarkon perked up in surprise. “That little child got through?” He bawled out in laughter, leaning back on his throne. The sound echoed through the dark castle.

“We will find a way to kill him, your majesty,” the other sentry said, holding his hand to his heart and bowing lower.

“No, he will be judged by the Altean king now.” Zarkon shook his head, clenching his hands to fists. “He is as good as dead, and I’ve lost my only way in to Altea.”

The two sentries ducked the heads low as Zarkon raised his hand to them, clenching his fist and turning them into dust, destroying them one by one.

 

~~

 

The cub stumbled through the busy streets of Altea. He had taken a large piece of material from a trash cans as soon as he entered the city and wrapped it around himself. Making a makeshift hood to cover his purple skin and long ear. He sat huddled under the awnings of a market place stall. Completely mesmerised by the shiny red apples on the cart in front of him. His stomach rumbled in protest.

His thoughts returned to the last time he had food. He had had a happy dinner last night with his mother and father…before…

Shaking his head from those thoughts, he slinked under the other carts until he reached the red apples he had been watching. The shop keeper wouldn’t mind if he just took one…The shopkeeper wasn’t looking anyway, so he crept up to the cart. Crouching behind the watermelons in a large barrel next to the apples box, he reached up, his purple claws sticking into the flesh of the apple, he snatched it.

With the red apple in hand, he sprinted back to the edge of the marketplace, hiding under the awning, as if he hadn’t moved. A young girl saw what he had done, but instead of report him, she smiled.

Face hidden under his hood, he let a smile grace on his lips for the first time that day. He watched as the young girl copied him, crawling to the apple cart and reaching up for the apple in an attempt to steal one. But the shop keeper saw her.

“I see you!” He took a tight hold of her wrist.

The Galran cub was on him like a shot, he tackled his small frame into the side of the shopkeeper. He glared up at the man, kicking his shin and making the larger Altean howl in pain. The cub quickly got up, taking the girls hand and pushed her out of the way. The shopkeeper reached for the cub, grasping at his cloak. Gaining purchase, he yanked him back, the hood falling from the cubs face.

“Galran!” The shop keeper yelled, reaching up for the alarm bell at the corner of his shop stall and ringing it.

The marketplace was suddenly wrought with screams, the cub held his hands to his ears, pushing them down flat to his head,  trying to drown out the sounds. The shopkeeper pounced on him, taking a tight hold of his small wrist and holding him high up in the air. The cubs’ feet skimmed the ground, and he sucked in a breath when he saw the shop keeper reach for the large knife hanging on the side of the wooden wall.

“You dare enter Altea?” The shopkeeper screamed, holding the knife up into the sky.

The cub watched in horror as it sliced through the air and onto his bound hand. Closing his eyes and bracing himself for the pain, he whimpered.

But the pain never came.

“I will take it from here,” A low males’ voice said, and the cub was suddenly jostled from the shopkeepers grip and into the embrace of a metal arm wrapped like a steel band around his middle.

Galran…the arm was made from  _Galran technology._ Who in Altea had something like that? 

He looked up to see a handsome man with a stone cold face, a strong jaw and deep set eyes. He had dark cropped hair, and a white fringe that fell over his eyes. He was wearing shiny black armour, and had the royal insignia on his cape. But he didn't look Altean, he didn't have the pointed ears or the weird triangles on his cheeks. He didn't look like anything the cub had ever seen before.

“But he is  _Galran!”_ The shopkeeper protested.

The cub struggled out of the huge mans’ grasp, but the man holding him didn’t budge. He wrapped his cloak around the cub, hiding him from view of the other Alteans surrounding them.

“The princess has shown her interest in him,” the soldier said, he reached into his pocket, taking out a few gold coins, and dropped them into the shop keepers hands. “We will make sure he gets what he deserves,”

And with that, the soldier turned away. The cub struggled under the cloak, his claws biting into the metal arm. He was going to die by this arm, he knew it.

“Stop fidgeting,” the soldier said, and the cub stilled. He didn’t sound so cold and scary as he had done before.

“Shiro, do you have him?” A female voice said.

The cloak was shrugged off from the cub and he saw a beautiful dark skinned Altean standing before him. The sunlight rose behind her, illuminating her soft looking long, white hair, her ears were pointed and she had royal blue triangles on her cheeks.

“Yes, princess.” The soldier said, shrugging the rest of the cloak until he was in full view. He was a good few feet tall for a child of eight cycles, but the man holding him was so tall, he looked down and saw his feet where nowhere near the ground.

Wait… _princess?_ He was going to die by the hands of the princess of Altea!

“I’m sorry!” He sobbed, pleading for his life. He held his arms before him, holding his palms together, begging for his life. Tears fell down his cheeks, “I may be young, but I’ll work! I’ll keep out of sight! I promise,”

The princess came closer to him, bending down to gaze into his eyes. The cub flinched, hiding his face in his long hair. He held his hands to his ears and flattened them on his head.

“You’re hurt,” she said, lifting his hand up from his injured ear. She prodded at the tear at the tip of his ear, lightly grazing the pads of her fingers against the blood caked tear.

He hissed, baring his teeth at her. But he stopped himself, flinching away. “I’m sorry, _please_ , I'll be good,”

The princess stood silent, regal, she looked up at the soldier and they seemed to be speaking without actually saying anything. His momma used to do that with his father when he was younger, they would talk with their eyes. His heart clenched at the home he had lost and he sobbed, tears streaming from his eyes.

He lost everything, and now he was going to die.

The cloak was wrapped around him again, and the tall soldier rocked him gently back and forth. It was soothing to his tired, hungry body, and soon the cub found himself falling asleep.

 

~~

 

The harsh sound of the stormy skies above was drowned out by the soft tinkering of bells. The Galran cubs’ ears flicked to the sound, as he groggily opened his dark yellow eyes and looked up to the soft net like curtains above him. It was dark, save for the flashes of lightning that illuminated the room.

The bed his small body was sunk into was warm, the covers were soft, cloud like, and the scent of some kind of flowers drifted into his nose. He noticed he was wearing something silky, and his injured ear was bandaged up, he could barely move it, but at least it wasn’t hurting now.

His eyes shot open in fear as his thoughts returned to that day. The princess and the soldier had brought him here. Were they going to kill him? Were they allowing him a small mercy before they slaughtered him, like they had slaughtered so many Galran’s before him?

He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. He quickly got out of the bed, pushing the heavy covers from his body and scuttled to the edge of massive mattress. The room was in a mixture of whites and blues, and they stung his eyes. He wasn’t used to such bright colours in his sensitive eyes.

His stomach groaned in protest of not being fed, but he ignored it. He needed to get out of here.

He spied a cupboard and rushed over to it, hefting the heavy oak door open, he saw clothing inside. He picked up the material at the very top, not wanting to ruin the neatness inside, and slipped it over his body. Pulling the cover over his head as a hood, he tiptoed over to the large door.

Lightening forked along the skies and thunder rumbled, and the cub shivered. He never did like the stormy weather. It reminded him of all of the good times he had huddled close with his mother, listening to her singing to try and drown out the sound of thunder.

He’d never hear her voice again…

The door before him cracked open and the pretty princess peered her head in. The cub stilled, dropping to his knees. He clutched the cloth around his body tighter and wished it was magical enough to make him disappear. He didn’t want to die!

“You’re awake,” she whispered, pushing the door open more. She and the soldier walked into the room. The soldier stood by the door, blocking any way out.

“Please don’t hurt me,” He stuttered, his voice muffled by his knees. He wrapped his tail around his body, shaking in fear.

The princess knelt down before him, holding her arms out to him, her voice was calm and soothing as she spoke. “No one will hurt you, little one,”

He looked up to the soldier, and shuddered again. The princess looked up to the soldier too, and held back a giggle.

“Neither will Shiro,” she said confidently, and the soldier relaxed.

The sound of thunder rumbled in the sky, and the cub shuddered, ducking his head into his legs again.

“Are you scared of thunder?” the soldier asked, walking into the room and closing the door behind them. His theory was proven when another streak of lightening forked along the skies, followed by the sound of thunder, and the cub shivered, tears shining in his eyes.

The soldier lifted the cub up and held him to his chest. The cub stiffened in fear, but the soldier just held his head to his chest. The cub could hear the distinct and heavy sound of his heartbeat and it dulled any other sound around him. He was warm, and his heartbeat was so loud.

“Shiro?” The princess asked, getting up and watching the soldier.

The soldier chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “My mother used to let me listen to her heartbeat every time I was scared of something,”

“You’re so sweet,” the princess said, smiling.

“What are we going to do with him?” the soldier asked, holding the cub tighter to his chest, rocking him back and forth. The cub was frozen, on the one hand he was so relaxed, her felt so safe, but on the other, he knew this soldier could kill him. “He got through the barriers, but he looks Galra. Is he another half-blood?”

“Zarkon must be after him, its probably why he ran,” The princess said, her fingers running soothingly through his hair. “We can’t let this little one out of our sights,”

“If he is a half blood,” the soldier said, his voice deep. “We will need to teach him to control his shifting,”

“You did it before, my dear,” the princess murmured, holding her hand to his cheek. “I’m sure you can do it again,”

The cub listened to the two talk and he was reminded of his parents once again. He was still frightened, but the princess said he wasn’t going to be hurt. And though the soldier was menacing, he was not all that scary right now.

Maybe everything would turn out alright?

 

~~

 

“Prince Keith!” The large Samoan yelled into the trees, watching as the teenager climb the large tree in the back of the castle grounds garden. “Princess Allura will not be happy if you are injured again,”

“Momma Allura worries too much, I’ll be fine,” Prince Keith replied, reaching up for the shiny red apple at the very top of the trees.

When he was young, he had been saved by Princess Allura and the soldier Shiro, who he had found was the princess’s royal guard. The metal armed man was around her all the time. The princess must have seen something in him, because she adopted him straight away. She kept him close, and soon he had been given the title of prince by King Alfor, and the name Keith.

He couldn’t remember his given name any more, every time he tried to remember what happened before he met Allura and Shiro, his head would ache and his mind would draw a complete blank. His carer Tsuyoshi Garret, or Hunk as he liked to be called, had told him it was most probably his mind trying to forget a traumatic event, and when he grew up, if he was ready, he’d remember in his own time.

Almost immediately, he had been taken under Shiro’s wing, and had learned how to hide his Galran traits. Apparently there had been a previous half breed, half Altean, half something else, who Shiro had helped come to his own.

Lessons upon lessons had been forced upon him, and honestly, he was grateful. He may not remember his life before Altea, but at least he was happy. He had wilting thoughts about a life without all the luxuries he had right now. Of a family that loved him. He wasn’t allowed in the streets, however. Momma Allura had been adamant that he keep to the castle walls, and only to leave with either Hunk or Shiro if he needed to go out there.

He had a home here, love…he had a _family._

_He was complete._

Well almost, there was one small thing he had to do. And that was get this red apple, it was the shiniest, the ripest and looked the sweetest. And _he_ deserved the best.

It was testing him, however, being so high up. Keith knew he shouldn’t do it, but he let his tail come out to play. Wrapping the purple appendage around the branch, he stabilised himself and swung up until he caught the branch that held the jewel he sought. He reached out for it, grasping it in his hands. Perfect!

“Prince Keith!” Hunk called out again. “Your mother wants you ready for the ball,”

Keith rolled his eyes and dropped down to the ground, his tail balancing him in his descent. Hunk rolled his eyes, motioning to his extra appendage. Keith smirked, hiding his tail once again.

“Can I make a quick pit stop?” he asked, holding the apple to his chest.

Hunk nodded, and followed dutifully as Keith rushed through the gardens and into the castle. He meandered through the many people who were getting ready for the ball tonight. Even though Keith was a prince in the castle, he was going to get his official title as Prince Keith of Altea today. The whole kingdom was invited to bask in the celebrations. He was excited.

But he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Almost bumping into a servant holding a large tray filled with cutlery and dinner plates, Keith apologised and finally made his way to his destination. The kitchens. Pushing the door open, he looked around excitedly. The place was teeming with people, chefs making delicious smelling foods and souf chefs and servants rushing back and forth to get ready for the night. When Keith didn’t see who he was looking for, he pouted.

Someone tapped him on his shoulders and his eyes widened with mirth. Turning, he saw a tanned man, just a few years older than he was, standing before him. He was wearing servants garbs, but his cheeks held the Altean markings.

“My prince, what brings you here?” he said.

Lance McClain, Altean and current kitchen boy to the castle. He and Keith had been friends ever since Keith could remember. Always playing together, learning together. Keith reached into the lapels of his jacket and pulled out the shiny red apple. He held it out to the young man, a smile bright on his face.

“You didn’t.” Lance said, taking the apple and holding it up in the light.

Keith nodded. “I did!”

“I can’t believe it! You dare devil!” Lance giggled, making Keith laugh too.

“I wanted to get it for you,” Keith said suddenly, his cheeks turning a slight tinge of red. “It was the ripest one on the tree,”

“Yeah, and the furthest, if I remember correctly,” Lance smirked, he clutched onto Keith’s hand, pulling him into the kitchen. "Thank you, your highness,"

"Don't call me that," Keith muttered, turning a brighter shade of red. A zing ran through his body at the touch, his heart beat wildly in his chest, and he wasn’t really sure why. But he knew he liked it when Lance touched him, or held his hand. He liked Lance.

“Lance!” One of the kitchen staff yelled from the back of the kitchen. “Back to work!”

Lance took the apple and hid it in his pocket. “Good luck today,”

“I’ll see you, right Lance?” Keith asked, not wanting to leave his friend.

Lance nodded, smirking. “Wild Galran’s couldn’t keep me away,”

Keith nodded, taking one long look at Lance, before he turned and left the kitchen. He met Hunk in the hallways outside, the Samoan raised an eyebrow, which Keith tsked at, and they made their way up into his room.

Time for the ball.

 

~~

 

Tonight was the night.

Every single person around all of the land was attending the ball. Altea’s luminous lights blared heavily down on the raised pathways as the population of the city made their way to the beautiful castle. Images of the royal family were illuminated in the large billboards that were hanging deftly in the sky, bannered across buildings.

Keith sucked in a brave breath as he straightened out his outfit.

Today was the day he was finally going to become prince of Altea. And he was nervous. He knew he had a hard life, he wasn’t blood related, and he was half Galra to top it all off. But his mother, and Shiro and everyone else in the court had taken good care of him.

He was going to cherish this moment for all eternity.

Bright, fantastic lights thundered in the main ballroom, Keith grimaced at the immensity of the bright lights, but he soldiered through. The ballroom was nothing short of spectacular. There were so many entertainers all over the place, candlelight and the beautiful, shining chandeliers swung deftly above. People were dancing in spirals and circles in the very centre. There were several sculptures of angels, and Alteans, beautiful and intricate, _happy_. It was all so beautiful.

He spied his mother and King Alfor to his side, sitting on the thrones and watching the beauty before them. Shiro stood next to Allura, as was his job. Hunk nudged him from behind he shook his head. He wasn’t ready to go out there, not yet. Instead, he watched the dancers swirling around and around in dizzying circles. It was all so magical.

When he saw Lance peered out from the kitchen area, he almost shrieked in delight, wanting to go up to him. Lance was wearing his usual servants garb, his pointed ears peeking from his chestnut coloured hair. The Altean markings on his cheeks shone in the candlelight. He looked as if he was dreaming, his sea blue eyes were closed and Keith wished he could go to him.

What was he thinking about?

Keith's attention was taken to the swell of music as it vibrated out and the dancers stopped spinning, standing still and bowing low. King Alfor stood up from his seat, and the others quietened.

“I present to you,” He started, his voice travelling through the entire ballroom. He raised his arm to the side. “Prince Keith of Altea,”

Keith shuddered, and nervously stepped out onto the stage. He had been waiting for this moment for a very long time now, he thought he was prepared, but he didn’t expect all of the stares. They all looked at him, and he knew they saw him, his pale skin, dark hair and dark eyes, so very different to the royals of Altea.

He was hiding his Galran traits. But he was prince now.

Momma Allura took his hand and ushered him to the regal seats, settling him down on the comfy throne next to hers. He looked out at all of the eyes watching him, and sucked in a breath. He could do this.

His moustached uncle, Coran, held a tall box tightly in his hands, holding it out to King Alfor. His eyes twinkled, and he smiled warmly at Keith, calming him down. King Alfor opened the box and inside, glimmering in the candle light was a beautiful silver crown.

Keith took in breath as the king took the crown and made his way over to him, he laid the crown on Keith's head and smiled. The crown was a little heavy, but it fit snugly into his head.

“Welcome to the family, my son,” King Alfor murmured, only for Keith to hear.

Keith felt tears sting his eyes. His heart felt overwhelmed with emotion. The king had called him son. His mother squeezed his hand, supporting him, she had the most beautiful smile on her face, and he couldn’t help but smile too.

_Finally._

He let out a breath and looked to the many people watching him, they each had smiles on their faces, they were happy with the kings decision. It made Keith happy to know he could make the people of Altea happy. The music quickly started up again, as did the dancers and the entertainers. It was magnificent to see everything from the throne. His gaze veered to Lance, and saw he wasn’t there anymore. Keith was a little sad to see that. But he knew he’d be able to see Lance again later, so he didn’t let it worry him.

 

~~

 

At the edge of Altea, far from the centre of the city and the castle, was a cloaked figure, dressed in completely black. The figure stood aloft the tall trees, watching the festivities around the town. In her arms she held a bottle that shone with a metallic black against the sparkling lights of the city. They held their arm up in the air as a wave of quintessence rose from the ground. It shimmered an inky black, the figure growled and slammed the murky wave to the barrier surrounding the city. She smirked when the barrier cracked under the pressure and the power of the quintessence, shattering a hole.

From the dense darkness of the forest, Zarkon appeared, his hands held to fists at his side, black light emitting from his very being as he walked through the barriers, the first ever full Galra to enter Altea.

He made his way through the city, the sparkling lights and music being drawn into deathly silence, abolished like a black hole as he passed through. Upon reaching the castle, Zarkon raised his arm, pushing the doors open, they crashed against the walls, destroyed.

No one inside would truly understand the peril they were in.

 

~~

 

Keith could barely contain himself as he watched his mother dance with Shiro, they looked very happy as they swayed to the music, moving to and fro. The crowds cheered around them.

The sound of the door being smashed open brought him out of his revere. Looking up, he saw the hulking Galran enter. His skin curled with goose bumps, his fingers scraping against the wood of the throne. His heart hammered in his chest as fear over took him.

A Galra…a full blooded Galra…in Altea!

The jaunty music and the dancers that had twirled in his mind suddenly darkened to screaming Alteans and bodies rushing around in the ballroom, trying to get away from the Galran. Lightening crackled around the Galran as he slowly made his way across the ballroom floor. With a flick of his wrists, the beautifully dressed people were thrown to the side. The skies darkened, as did the bright white of the castle, deteriorating into black as everyone tried to flee.

King Alfor took Keith’s arm and threw him into Shiro’s embrace. The soldier took the newly turned prince, wrapping his metal arm tight around Keith’s waist. He took a tight hold of Allura’s hand and rushed behind the curtains.

“I see you, half breed,” Zarkon growled, his voice was like oil and it grated Keith’s ears. It was so familiar…but Keith couldn’t place him.

He caught a glimpse of the man, looked into his yellow eyes, and felt something strange brew up inside him. It was like he had swallowed a big ball of lead and it sat heavy in his stomach. His thoughts turned to the screams, big black figures with heavy armour and sharp weapons. The smell of fire, of something burning, of someone screaming at him, screaming so loud it was deafening him.

_“Run, my baby! Run!”_

He didn’t know he had turned Galran until Allura took him in her arms, shushing him. The connection with his adopted mother was instantaneous, flooding his mind and reminding him just who he was now. His heart ached, his fingers gripping tight at her shoulders, burying his face in her chest.

“Hush, little one, I will not let anyone hurt you,” she murmured to him. She turned to Shiro, her eyes set in determination. “How did they get into Altea?”

“They must have found a way, my princess,” Shiro replied, tugging on her arm. They continued to run, making their way through the castle. But there was no other safe way to go. There was a sentry at every turn, and Keith knew he was slowly turning Galran in the fear. He needed to get out of here, he needed everyone safe. But there was nowhere to go.

The sound of the raid alarm and the multitude of screams of the people fleeing were so loud, Keith couldn’t hear anything else. He tried to listen to his mothers’ heartbeat, tried to force his thoughts away from the darkness. Of the burning…

…something was burning.

…the Galran was burning the castle down!

“Momma!” Keith shrieked, he clutched onto Allura’s hair, burying his face in her shoulder, he could smell the smoke, could hear the crackling of fire as it ate through the walls and the floors he had called his home.

“I know you’re here, half breed!” Zarkon’s voice was like a beacon, loud and destructive.

King Alfor appeared before them, motioning for them to one of the empty corridors. He pushed them into one of the servants quarters. Hunk and Lance were inside, as soon as Keith saw Lance, he leaped from his mothers’ arms and held onto his hand, drawing him into the circle they had created. Lance let him tug him close.

“I’m coming for you, my king,” Zarkon’s voice was closer now.

King Alfor stilled at the sound. He leaned into the three, his only family, holding them close to him. Hugging them one by one, and pressing his lips to Allura’s head, he suddenly stood up.

“Keep my family safe, Shiro,” he said solemnly.

“No, my king!” Shiro said, getting up alongside him. He stood in front of the king, stopping him from what he was about to do. “This is my job, please don’t—”

“Your job is to be by my daughters’ side,” King Alfor said, placing a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “Protect her, protect _them._ ”

He took one look at his daughter, pressing his lips to her forehead once again, and then to Keith’s before getting up. Allura’s tears were silent, but they were streaming down her cheeks as she watched her father make his way out of the servants’ room. He closed the door behind him, and they heard the sound of furniture screeching. He was barricading the door.

Allura broke down, sobbing. Shiro was by her side in an instant, as was Keith, holding onto her, consoling her.

Minutes passed, and there was nothing but silence. They stayed silent in that small room. Shiro was sitting next to Allura on the small bed, Keith was by her feet, holding onto her hand with one hand, his other hand had a tight grip on Lance’s. Hunk stood next to them, biting his nails, ears trained to the door, and to any sound on the other side.

_Thud, thud, thud._

Keith gasped, his fingers tightening around his mothers’ hand. He tugged Lance closer, holding onto his only family.

_Thud, thud, thud._

The sound was getting closer and closer now, heavy metal footfalls along the carpet outside. Hunk took a few steps back, holding his arms out, protecting all he could while on the other side of the door.

“We’ve got to get you out of here,” Shiro whispered harshly, listening to the footfalls coming closer and closer.

_Thud, thud, thud._

“I’m not leaving any of you behind,” Keith growled, his eyes turning a shade of yellow, his Galran ears perked up high.

The footfalls stopped, and they could hear heavy breathing on the other side of the door. Slowly, ever so slowly, the furniture that had barricaded and hidden the room was being pushed to the side.

“Come out my little princess,” Zarkon’s voice was horrid, putrid as he spoke. “Your father made a lovely meal, but I’m still hungry,”

Allura held a hand to her mouth, blocking out her sobs. She knew her father would most likely die, he had sacrificed himself to give them some time. And yet, here Zarkon was, the only thing keeping them apart was the thin doorway.

Lance turned to Hunk, and then to Shiro, nodding. He tugged on Keith’s hand, pulling him up from his mothers’ feet.

“Quick, follow me,” he said, he scrambled against the wall, his hand looking for something. Suddenly, the wall itself fell back, opening to a space that lead to a set of stairs leading down.

“Go!” He yelled, pushing Allura, Shiro and Keith down the stairs. Keith stopped, tugging on Lance’s arm. Lance tightened his grip on his hold, smiling sadly. “I’ll be right behind you,”

“Promise?” Keith asked, looking hopeful as Allura tugged on his arm.

Lance didn’t say a word, the doors closed behind them, and Keith screamed his name, thudding his fists of the concrete of the secret door. Shiro lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder, making his way down the spiral staircases. Keith struggled out of his grip, but Shiro was too strong.

They made their way through the passageway and found themselves coming out from a path into the train station. Keith had stopped screaming now, he had stopped doing anything anymore. He just laid there, in Shiro’s arms, his eyes downcast. Allura ushered them to the closest train, waiting for the cabins doors to open.

“Princess, please wait here,” Shiro said, placing Keith on the train booth seats. “I will make sure no one is following us,”

Allura nodded, settling down next to Keith, she brought him close and held him in her arms. She patted him on his head, running her fingers through his long hair. Keith broke down, tears streaming from his yellowing eyes.

In one fell swoop they had lost everything. Their life, their home, the king… _Lance._

He choked on his sobs, hiding his face in his mothers’ chest. He reached up to his head, pressing his hair down flat. He didn’t have his Galran ears out, but he still found it soothing.

“You’ve not done that for a while,” Allura said quietly, holding him closer. She started humming a familiar tune, trying to hush his tears.

They were interrupted by a loud crash from the outside of the train. Allura stood up, holding Keith behind her.

“Don’t leave my side,” she said, taking a tight grip of his hand and moving him behind her. Together, they slowly made their way out of the train and onto the platform.

Allura gasped, her grip tightening on Keith’s wrist. Peering from behind his mother, Keith saw Shiro fighting against big black armoured sentries. He was bleeding from his head, and his arm was bruised up and bloodied.

“Shiro!” He shrieked, wanting to get closer to the soldier that had become like his brother, like his father.

They were suddenly overrun by sentries, they shoved Allura to the side. She fel to the ground, lightening crackled around her as the sentries came closer and closer to him. He wanted to save her, but his fear of lightening made him freeze in his place. Zarkon appeared before them, and Keith felt his heart stop beating.

“Found you,” he murmured, reaching his hand out, running a gloved hand down Keith’s cheek.

Keith’s shuddered with fear, his breath became shallower, heart beating madly. And he found he was too frightened to move. Darkness enveloped around them both, swallowing him whole as his entire world crumbled around him. He could faintly hear his mother screaming his name

“Keith!”

_“Run! My baby! Run!”_

A solid breeze of air slammed into him as a sword sliced through the darkness. His heart sank as a strong, familiar arm wrapped around his waist and dragged him back away from his captor.

Shiro…

Shiro…

_“Shiro!”_

Keith screamed. Shiro pushed him into the train, just as the doors closed behind them. The train bell sounded, piercing into his ears. He slammed his hands onto the glass, watching as Shiro fought against the large Galra.

His sword sliced once again, shining a glittering white against the darkness, Zarkon screamed, his voice flew through the air. Keith watched as he raised his arms up to the skies, and could only shield his eyes as a fissure of lightening forked down onto the ground. The sheer force blew Keith back, his head hit the table and his thoughts were engulfed into darkness.

_“Run! My baby…”_

_…run._


	2. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDIT:**  
>  Changed five years later, to fifteen years later.  
> But everything else stays the same.

Keith ran through the dark forest, pushing away at the sickly and oily black branches and leaves that got in his way. They left slippery and greasy marks over his skin that burned and stung. His heart hammered wildly in his chest, his feet thudding hard against the mossy ground. He slipped a few times, stumbling over vines and tree roots, but he didn’t stop.

He could hear heavy footfalls of metal hitting the floor, pounding loud in his ear and as fast as his heart beating. The ground below his feet shook with every thud, thud, thud of those footsteps.

Someone was following him, someone was hunting him down.

_“Keith!”_

He turned at the familiar sound of a female screaming a name, _his name_. It was so familiar, it felt warm and safe, but it she was screaming at him with such anguish it made tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Running backwards, trying to find who was calling his name in the pitch darkness, he stumbled on a risen tree root. He hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of him. But he didn’t let that faze him. He quickly got straight back up and continued running. All he knew was to run. Keep on running.

The sickly, greasy vines erupted from the ground, shooting up and wrapping tightly around his arms and legs, slithering up his body and squeezing until he couldn’t move, couldn’t _breathe._ He tried to scream, but the vines wrapped around his throat, silencing him.

_“I see you,”_

The oily, grated sound made him shudder in fear. His heart hammered wilder now, sweat running from his body and soaking his clothes. His legs were screaming in pain as the vines tightened around his limbs, the roots and thorns stabbing into his body, ripping into his skin. They nipped and throbbed, blood dripped in rivers from his cuts and bruises.

_“I won’t let anyone hurt you, little one,”_

He struggled and struggled against those vines, screaming silently as they tore into his skin, into hair. His body screamed in protest, his eyes bled, yet he still tugged against the hold. Slowly, ever so slowly, the vines loosened their grip on him and he vaulted up from the ground and ran.

_“Run, my baby…run…”_

He didn’t stop. He just ran. He ran until he couldn’t breathe, until the blood on his body pooled from his cuts like a river behind him, until he was too weak to do anything else. His breathing was so fast it was almost non-existent, his vision swimming and blurry.

He was going to die here.

But then he saw a beautiful sight before him. The sun shining was in the distance, gracing him with blessed light. And in that light stood a man, he was young, just a teenager. But Keith thought he knew him, his heart ached at the forgotten memory.

The man was holding his hands out to Keith, motioning him to come closer, his eyes were a brilliant blue, shining bright and happy and Keith couldn’t help but want to get closer and closer to him. With each slap of his feet against the mulching ground, he was doing just that.

But something was stopping him from reaching his blissful destination. A heavy weight dragged him down, a hand burned on his shoulder, pulling him back. He felt hot breath on his ear, miasmic smoke plumed around him, forcing its way into him, seeping into his skin until it turned purple.

No…no, no!

That heavy, grated voice screamed in his ear, and he cried in pain.

“I see you,”

 

Keith shot up from his bed, his mouth open in a wide ‘o’, his body drenched with sweat, yet he was cold, oh so very cold. He wrapped his arms around his body, seeing them having turned a slight blush of Galran purple. He sucked in deep breaths, controlling his Galra genes, slowly, his skin returned to their usual human paleness. But his mind betrayed him. His memories returned to that dream and he shuddered in fear. He counted back from ten, regulating his breathing and trying to keep himself sane after that dream.

That dream…

What _was_ that dream?

The door to his small bedroom suddenly burst open, and a small brunette with large round glasses appeared at his side. Her brunette hair was in disarray over her head and her eyes were drowsy with sleep. Keith winced apologetically, once again he had annoyed his neighbour in the middle of the night.

The young woman, one Pidge Holt, was a godsend, however.

She had told him the story of how they had first met. It had happened fifteen years ago. Pidge had been travelling to Balmera, and all of the compartments were full, apart from him. She had found him unconscious in a train carriage, slumped on the ground, completely drained of all colour and skin as cold as ice. He had blood seeping from his head and soaking the plush bench and carpet below.

She didn’t know how long he had been there, but from the amount of blood, she had calculated he had been there, unconscious, close to death, for almost an hour into the train journey.

She had told him of how she had rushed through the entire train, hunting out a doctor, a physician, _anyone,_ screaming bloody murder until one brave doctor had stood up at her anguish and followed her back to the carriage. The doctor had quickly fixed him up as much as he could, and had taken him to the infirmary at the next stop.

He had gained consciousness a few hours in being hospitalised, but he had been delirious; screaming ‘momma’ and ‘soldier’ and ‘lance’, before falling unconscious once again.

She had stayed by his side until he woke up a few days later with no memory of anything from before that moment. He didn’t know who he was, or where he was, or how he had gotten there. In all honesty, Keith didn’t remember anything from before the train. He had hit his head hard that his memory had been impaired.

All he had remembered was his name, ‘Keith’.

But as time passed, sometimes…when Keith was alone, staring up at the stars in the dark skies, he’d remember snippets, just small things that would worry his waking moments, like a large man with scary eyes but a kind smile, the scent of wild flowers and the warmth of a mothers hug, and eyes as blue as the sea.

His dreams haunted him with someone screaming his name, telling him to run, the heartache of someone leaving him, of being unable to move, of something burning. Of his home burning…

So Pidge had taken him in, the wonderful woman that she was, and treated him as if he were her brother. They stayed in a small two bedroom shack in the middle of the desert like city at the outskirts of Balmera.

Pidge had told him she had been looking for her brother, and her last clue had led her to this city, this very town. Not knowing what else to do, especially with his memory being the way it was, Keith had followed Pidge, telling her he would help in whatever he could to look for her brother.

Fifteen long years had passed, and they had yet to find him. But Pidge hadn’t stopped looking, she hadn’t given up hope. She was confident that she would find him, and it gave Keith hope. Maybe if he was as optimistic as she was, then maybe he’d find the people that haunted his mind. Maybe he’d find his family.

But fifteen whole years had passed, and now Keith was…well Pidge had said he looked about thirty, so he believed her. Who was he to go against her wishes, especially when he didn’t know how old he really was?

His memories were gaining in strength, however many were depleting. But he knew there was someone out there waiting for him.

“You alright, Keith?” Pidge asked, straightening her glasses and eyeing him eerily, her glasses always made her eyes look a little bit bigger than they really were. She always looked innocent and doe-eyed, but he knew she was anything but. She was ruthless when she wanted to be.

“It was just another nightmare,” Keith said, pulling the sheets from his body to cool himself down.

She leaned back and let him get up and out of the bed. Helpfully, she reached for the bottle of water he kept on his bedside table and handed it to him. Keith took it, thanking her, unscrewed the top and took a big gulp of the slightly warm liquid.

“Sorry for waking you,” he said, closing the lid of his bottle and placing it on his lap. She had always been adamant that she didn’t mind it, she’d rather help him through his demons than let him face them alone.

But it was at times like this, when he saw her look so very tired, knowing she had pulled another late night doing whatever it is she was currently doing – most likely a current project that would bring money in – that he wished he hadn’t had these nightmares. He just wanted them to both get some rest.

Life was already cruel enough.

The summer sun was peeking through the horizon, ready to greet the day. Looking at the clock at the corner of his room he saw it was an hour earlier than they’d usually wake.

“Come on, dude. You know that’s not a problem,” she replied, placing her warm hand on his shoulder, reassuring him. “You wanna talk about it?”

Keith shook his head, the dreams were not different to what he had already told her, but she listened every time. She had always told him to tell her about them, or to write them down somewhere. Maybe there was something in there that would help remind him of who or what he was.

She had already seen him turn Galran once, and knew he was a half breed. So she wouldn’t be all that surprised to know he had actually ‘Galra-ed out’ as she so eloquently put it.

It had happened in the first few weeks they had stayed together. He had been having an exceptionally bad dream that night, and when she came to see if he was okay, he had transformed into his half breed state, his long, torn ears low on the top of his head, skin glistening purple with sweat, and his claws poised out, ready to strike at any threat.

Though she had been frightened at first, she didn’t say anything to him about it. She had told him she’d be here when _he_ wanted to tell her. She had her own problems, which he had gladly listened to. She had no gender, male or female, she looked like both. But she had been adamant to be a woman, so to Keith, she was a she.

He had been so honoured that she had told him her secrets, that he told her his. He didn’t know what he was, but he knew he was half Galran, and though his body instinctively knew how to control it, there were still moments when his purple-self came out to play. It was usually when he was frightened or hurt. But he was glad someone knew, she was able to help him when things got too out of hand.

“Might as well get up,” Keith stated, motioning her off his bed as he got up.

Pidge let out a yawn, but she agreed with him and stood up.

“Shotgun, shower!” she yelled, running out of his room and into the adjacent bathroom at the other end of the small house.

Keith shook his head, smiling as he heard the shower turn on. He knew she was probably going to come out again eventually when she remembered she didn’t take anything with her.

Thankfully he wasn’t interested in Pidge in that way, she was like his little sister. And even then, he preferred men, especially those who had pretty blue eyes. So it wasn’t a surprise, lustful or anything, when Pidge jumped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around her body. She pointed a finger at Keith, silently telling him not to enter the bathroom, and rushed into her room to collect her things.

Keith closed his bedroom door and sought for his work uniform. After their first few months in Balmera, it had come to both Keith and Pidge’s attention that they needed to work in order to live.

Thankfully, Pidge’s friend Shay worked at the large café in the middle of the city, Vox. She had given them both jobs pretty easily, and though they had worked in Vox for a few years now, it was still just as exciting to Keith as it had been when he had first started.

The amount of people that came and went through Balmera was intense, and interesting. Balmera was a trader city, there were people here from all walks of life. They all had different stories, and it intrigued him. Though he enjoyed listening to them all, he especially loved the stories he heard about the Kingdom of Altea.

Apparently, fifteen years ago, the late King Alfor had been murdered, and in the grievance, everyone in his family was either dead or missing. The current king of Altea, one King Zarkon, had taken over the kingdom in his wake.

It was surprising to see a Galran in the Holy City, let alone have him as king. There must have been a treaty, an exception, or something, that allowed the Galran in.

Altea was a scary place to be in right now. Dark and cold, the place was overrun with Galran’s. Whoever ventured into the centre never came back out the same. Sentries and soldiers were in every corner, watching and waiting. Whatever it was they were waiting for, Keith didn’t know. But he was eager to see the city for himself.

Something about Altea called to him. And he really didn’t know why.

Maybe it was because he had heard all the stories about Altea before Zarkon’s ruling, before it all went to hell. He was eager to see _that_ Altea.  The Altea were the waters ran so clear, where the flowers were beautiful and bright, where the town was blissful and happy, where the Altean people danced and sang every day.

But there were no more Altean’s in Altea, they had all dispersed into the farthest lands, only to return when the kingdom was back to that happy time once again.

Keith couldn’t wait to see it. But that didn’t seem to be something that would happen so soon. Zarkon was getting old, but he was still powerful.

A few years later, news came that the princess and the bodyguard had managed to escape from the clutches of the castle and the Galran’s. However they were nowhere to be found. Maybe they too ran to the corners of the earth.

Not a few months after, there had been strong rumours all over the kingdoms about the young prince of Altea, the son of the princess, was still alive. The princess had told whoever was listening that she would give a handsome sum to whomever found the missing prince and brought him back.

It wasn’t surprising the uproar that rippled through the kingdoms. Hordes upon hordes of people came to the designated areas all around the land to meet the consorts of the kingdom, the ones who knew the prince. No one ever met the princess or her bodyguard – it was too risky.

There had been many false alarms, too many fakes and phonies, and Keith felt for the poor princess, she must be so heartbroken by now, seeing people tarnish her love for her son, for her only living relative all for the greed of money.

He just wished she’d finally find her son and they’d go back to Altea, kick the Galran royals out and take back what was rightfully theirs. He wished to see Altea happy.

Shrugging on the white button up shirt and the black pants that made his work uniform, he met Pidge at the kitchenette. After a quick breakfast, the two set off out into the warmth of Balmera’s desert like heat.

The day started like clockwork, they made their way to the bus stop, waited for the city bus and got on it, like the rest of the workers. He listened to Pidge talk about her latest invention, or something along those lines, as they stood on the bus. She was always so excited about a new project, and this one seemed to be biotechnological – a challenge even for her.

He listened to her, and peered out to the beauty of the sun rising in the blue skies. His thoughts returned back to his dream. The blue of the sky was the same blue as the man in his dreams, the one who was beckoning him over.

_Who was that man?_

Pidge broke him out of his revere and they made their way out of the bus, across the busy streets and to the large café at the corner.

Vox was a beautiful café cum restaurant on the corner of the main street that boasted all sorts of cuisines, for all species. The building was ancient, having been one of the first few to be built when the city first came to light. The bricks were roughened by the sandy pavements, and reddened by the bright sun, giving it a rustic look, vines boasting pretty white flowers climbed the walls, arching over the windows and curving through the drain pipes. The large bay windows took over the corner walls, letting in the warm light, while all sorts of colourful flowers in pots sat outside, leaning upwards to greet the sun. There were wrought iron and plush tables and chairs outside, under the dark awning; many of the seats were filled with morning shoppers and coffee drinkers.

Making their way to the café from the back entrance, Keith followed Pidge in through the kitchens, saying hello to the workers there, and straight to the staff rooms. He pulled open his locker, which had the fading inscriptions, Holt, K. on it, and pulled out his apron. Slipping it around his waist, he straightened his shirt over it, making sure the shops logo was seen, and let out a sigh.

Another long and boring work day awaited him. Maybe he’d hear another interesting story from someone.

Pidge had been talking almost nonstop to him since they had entered the shop, something about a piece of technology she was trying to fix. Alongside being a biotechnological maniac on her latest project, Pidge was the tech-doctor. She was able to fix almost anything electrical. An inventor in her own right, she had created so many useful concoctions that their home was overrun with gadgets and gizmos, some working, some sitting there as spare parts.

He nodded along with her, listening to her speak, giving a few comments here and there. But he knew he’d never really be able to keep up with her. Keith was clever, but Pidge was a bona-fide genius. It would be so easy for her to get a better paying job.

Keith had once told her such, but she had clearly said she preferred working in the café. The hours allowed her to work on her inventions, which was more than just a simple pass time of hers. And this way she could speak to thousands of different people and get all sorts of information from them.

She was still adamant her brother was still out there. And Keith understood. He was waiting for someone familiar to walk through those doors, and help him remember what he had forgotten.

Who knew today would be the day.

 

~~

 

“Five years,” Lance growled under his breath, throwing the daily newspaper onto the long table before him. The words ‘last lost prince a hoax’ emblazoned in black on the yellow tinged pages.

Lance had grown in the past few years. His hair had grown a little longer, his body had filled out with muscles and he looked all the more handsome than he had when he had been kitchen boy in the castle. But his eyes had lost their brightness. They no longer shone with amusement, with teasing, or anything. They were dull, dead, _tired._

He watched as a handsome, tall man walked off the large stage, feet slapping ungracefully down the short wooden steps and across the small auditorium. His heart fell as the door creaked open, letting in a little bit of sunlight, before closing again with a thud. The auditorium was engulfed in darkness once again, just like Lance’s heart.

“It’s been five years since we started this con, Hunk,” Lance repeated, slamming his fist down forcefully on the wood, making the pens and stationary on the table jump. “And we _still_ can’t find anyone to play the missing prince,”

“We don’t even know if he’s really out there,” Hunk answered. He too had grown much taller, much wider with muscles, yet he was still the gentle and loving man he had been when he had lived as a guardian for the prince in the castle. “For all we know, the prince is long gone,”

“He is not dead, I _will_ find him,” Lance growled. His dull eyes narrowed and he raised his arms out to the young woman holding a clipboard on the stage. “But for now, I’ll find his copycat.”

Hunk sighed, slumping back on his chair. He reached for the pen on the table and scratched a line over the name of the previous contender on the paper slotted into the clip board. There had been so many names already crossed out, he felt like they had been here forever, watching as young man after young man stepped nervously onto the stage, did their part – which was the same _every single time –_ only to be forced off.

There was no… _moment_. Nothing that made Hunk go ‘yes, this is the right one’. There was only pain, pain of the memories they were tarnishing with each new person they saw. The pain that came with remembering the little prince as he rushed around the castle, happy and carefree, warm and loving. The memory of that mischievous little trickster who hated his lessons, and enjoyed defying orders.

Looking up, Hunk watched as another man walked onto the stage, looking similar to the man who had just left before. Similar dark hair, lanky in stature, but his eyes were a different shade entirely. They could work with that, some coloured contacts and none would be the wiser.

Lance had, somehow – Hunk still didn’t know how Lance had done it, especially with how bad he really thought the idea was – but Lance had _somehow_ convinced Hunk that they would find a person to play the missing prince, show him to the princess, get the reward money and live happily ever after.

Among the two of them, they knew enough about the prince to make it believable. The princess would be happy to have someone that resembled her long lost son, and they would be happy, living the life.

What could go wrong?

A lot, in fact.

“ _Next!”_ Lance almost screeched as the young man on the stage sat up from his spot on the floor.

Hunk was glad he hadn’t been paying full attention to the man on the stage. At the same time, he knew that Lance knew the prince even better than _he_ did. The two had been very close, almost inseparable, the best of friends. But Lance had been prudent, even back then.

A prince shouldn’t mingle with kitchen staff.

Hunk still remembered the fateful night when he had woken up to Lance screaming in his sleep, saying the words ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again. And Hunk knew, he understood what that was about.

Lance had lied to the prince. The last words he had said to his best friend had been a complete and utter lie. And he had been regretting it ever since.

Back then, he knew he had said it to save the prince. Lance had been so anxious, so _frightened,_ as the wall closed between them. He knew that was the last time he would see his best friend. His Keith.

He hadn’t been able to take listening to Keith scream his name as Shiro took him away, as Shiro saved him. And he was left in the castle, with the murderous Galran at the other end of the thin door. Zarkon had slammed open the door, seen the two and, thankfully, hadn’t done anything. They were still young, not a threat, not worth his breath.

And Lance was thankful, because in those few seconds that Zarkon had moved on, before the sentries were to come in and kill them, he and Hunk had ran, they had run fast and ran far through the invaded kingdom until they reached the pier. Jumping into the nearest boat, they had saved themselves, ready to find the princess and young prince.

That had been the plan.

Once they reached Balmera a few days later, ready to go through their plan to return and save the kingdom, word had come that the princess was in the clutches of Zarkon and the prince was dead.

Lance had lost all hope after that.

The light in his eyes had died along with the love in his heart.

Hunk knew he regretted that he hadn’t gone with Keith. Maybe if he had, maybe if they _both_ had, they could have protected the prince and the princess. Maybe they could have prevented everything from happening.

When word got through a few years later that the princess had escaped and the prince was still alive, Lance was on it like a shot.

But he wasn’t the soft and warm Lance Hunk knew him to be, he was cold and ruthless. Selfish. He only cared about one thing, _money._ When his next big pay day would be. He’d swindle a rich man for all his money; scam a pretty lady into giving him all of her valuables, convict alcoholics for all of their loot. And he’d do it with a smile.

And their current con was the biggest payday for them.

Hunk knew it was too late to stay in the past. It was too late to chance Lance, he had fallen farther and farther as they years’ grew. The only thing they could do was to think about the here and now. And right now, this man on the stage – who had started pleading on his knees to the two – was not the right person to play the prince.

The day continued to grow, and the list continued to get shorter and shorter.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Lance finally said as the last person on their list left the auditorium in darkness. He balanced his pen on the corner of the table, listlessly watching it tipple over and fall to the ground with a low thud.

Hunk scribbled out the last name on his roster and dropped his head onto the table. Today had been a long one.

“I’ve got a few more lined up for tomorrow,” Hunk replied, leafing through his satchel next to him and pulling out a few papers. “They look promising,”

“No more talking about the prince for tonight,” Lance said, holding his hand up and stopping the Samoan from talking any further.

Hunk nodded, putting his things back into his bag. “Wanna get something to eat before we head home?”

Lance nodded and together they packed away their things and made their way out of the small auditorium and into the cool air. Lance squinted his eyes at the sudden invasion of sun light. The sun was slowly dipping into the horizon, and the skies were illuminated with blood oranges and reds. It really was a sight to behold, but being stuck in a dark auditorium for hours on end really wasn’t working well for him.

One more day wasted.

He just wanted all of this to be over already. He was spending way too much money booking out the auditorium every day. He had barely enough to scrape rent for that month, what with both him and Hunk working, and him swindling where he could.

He knew, deep inside, that this was stupid. This con would fall apart faster than a cheap suit. And _they’d_ be the ones in trouble. Money was nothing when you were being followed by Terminator Shiro himself. Thankfully he had never crossed paths with the metal armed soldier in his time at the castle.

Royal guards did not mix well with kitchen staff either. Not unless you were the head chef, and even then it wasn’t a friendly meeting.

But, there were things Lance knew about Keith, things that he _knew_ other people would pay dearly to hear. Not that he’d ever tell anyone else, that was a secret he kept dear, one only the closest to the royal family knew.

For one thing, he _knew_ Keith wasn’t completely human. He was a half Galra breed. One mention of that to the princess, and it didn’t matter who Lance brought to them, they’d lap it up and take the fake prince, provided he play the part, and let them leave with the handsome reward.

There was nothing sweet about it. It was the perfect con, pure and simple. He would tug their heartstrings, play into their demands. And he’ll be rich. The city will have something to talk about, the prince returning! And by the time they found out the prince was a fake, he and Hunk would be long gone.

He just needed to find the perfect person to play the part.

Hunk tugged on his arm and motioned to the café at the corner of the main street. Lance rolled his eyes, this was where _Shay_ worked. Hunk’s current crush and love interest. Lance had never been to this café, Vox or whatever, he wasn’t much of a coffee drinker.

The man had been watching the Balmeran for almost two years yet. But he had heard all about it from Hunk. Their relationship was sickly sweet, all flowers and pretty things, they both flirted back and forth, and yet nothing had happened.

Stupid if you ask him. But Lance let Hunk drag him into the shop. It wasn’t as packed as he had expected it to be. In fact, there were only three other customers, other than them, in the shop, they were all sitting in the corner booth, talking and laughing as they dug into a delicious looking dinner.

His stomach protested.

Maybe dinner wasn’t a bad idea.

He met a pretty young woman on the other side of the country, she had a shy smile on her lips, and her eyes twinkled. Hunk chuckled, leaning onto the counter and saying a sly hello.

“Hey, Hunk,” She said with a giggle.

Ah…this must be Shay. Good for you Hunk, the girl was good looking, in that cute and adorable way. She had all the Balmeran traits, the stone coloured skin, the long tube shaped ears with hoops on either side of her face, her eyes were a bright yellow, and her smile was wide. She was the same height as Hunk, which was foreboding, because Hunk was a large man, and her arms were strong and long.

Hunk ordered something easy from the menu and the pretty Shay nodded, giggling behind her hand as Hunk said something, probably a joke. Lance wasn’t really paying attention.

Shay ushered them to a booth that overlooked the streets, and Lance took his seat. Hunk followed, his gaze not leaving Shay as she made her way back to the counter and into the back of the restaurant, most likely to tell the cook what to make.

“This day is just getting long,” Lance groaned, forcing a smile as another Balmeran appeared by their table, two tall glasses of water in a tray in her hand. She placed them on the table and sauntered away to the other group of people.

“Don’t worry, dude.” Hunk said in that optimistic way of his. Lance had to learn how he did that. How did he stay so happy all of the time? “We’ll find him, and when we do, think of all the cool things we’ll teach him?”

“You think Pidge has got the stuff ready yet?” Lance asked.

He had a backup plan. If, and when, they found the right person to play a faux half breed Galran prince, and the princess asked for proof, they had enlisted Pidge, a small, glasses wearing tech geek, to create an invention that would allow for the wearer of said invention to shape shift enough to adapt to the Galran traits.

Pidge had only agreed, not knowing the real reason why they wanted something like that. But when they had told her about the money, she had reluctantly agreed.

She had explained it to them, something about using the DNA sequence of the shape shifting Altean’s, splicing it with a Galran in order to replicate the process to make it look realistic. She then went on to explain it in a lot more detail, but when words Lance didn’t understand came to heed, he had lost all interest of trying to understand. He just wanted to make sure it worked, and that was that.

She should be getting it touch with them soon enough. But they still needed to find the right person. And they had spent the last few months going through every human looking species in all of the kingdoms and still hadn’t been hopeful.

Hunk nodded, “Yup, she should have everything ready for us by the end of the week,”

Lance leaned back on the comfy chairs and took the time to look around the café. It was nice, quaint, it had that old world feel to it. It kind of reminded him of Altea, before it had all gone quiznak crazy.

The kitchen doors opened and Lance peered up at the intrusion to his inner monologue. He literally had to do a double take.

The man who entered the café from the kitchen was probably still a teenager, maybe a few years older, in his early twenties if anything. His hair was a little long, like a mullet, but it was the right shade of black, just short of pitch, his eyes were the right coal stone blue colour too. He was lanky but muscular, pale skinned with an innocent complexion and had a look of royalty about him.

He was _perfect_.

The perfect fake-prince walked up to them, holding two large circular trays full of food in his hands. He placed the plates down in front of the two. Lance took a closer look at the man, and saw his nametag.

Sweet quiznaking Gods, even his name was _Keith!_

“If there’s anything else I can get you,” The young man said, taking the empty trays and holding them propped on his waist, “Just let me know,”

He turned to walk away, but Lance reached up to his apron, tugging him back. His smirk was wide, his eyes shining a little. The waiter looked down at them, the tray in his hand crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

“There is one thing you can do,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick fun quiz.  
> Find the song lyrics!


	3. Pop and Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> A little bit late in the day. But as promised.  
> It was Eid over the weekend (including Monday) so I wasn't able to write a damned thing on this story, but I hope this makes up for it. (I may need to go over it as it hasn't been proofread).
> 
> We're finally, slowly, getting somewhere.
> 
> Also, thank you to all you beautiful poppets who commented, kudosed and bookmarked, it brings me joy and so much motivation to write for you

Blue eyes.

He had blue eyes.

Keith never did come to the front of the store, not in the afternoon or evening. He and the others worked in shift. He’d usually be at the front of the restaurant in the early morning, helping the morning staff in serving the work rush. Once the afternoon and evenings rolled by, he’d stay in the back of the store, in the office, working through the inventory and financial side of things.

Since he had been working there for over a decade, he was well versed in the paperwork side of the business. Their manager, Rax, a hefty Balmeran and brother to Shay, had seen great potential in Keith. He had started teaching Keith the ins and outs of the restaurant and had soon promoted him to manager.

It was a thankless job however, though the money was better, Keith wasn’t able to really work with customers any more, he wasn’t able to speak with them. He was still trying to find Pidge’s brother, and his own family, but he was always stuck in the back rooms, unless the staff count was low.

Like it had been today.

He hadn’t expected Shay to come in and ask him to help her out. It was close to closing time, which meant only the chef and a few kitchen assistants were left in the kitchens and the back of the restaurant. And Shay and another Balmeran were helping out with the other customers at the front.

He quickly slipped on his apron, tied it around his waist, and made his way through the kitchen, picked up the orders and pushed the doors to the kitchen open with his shoulder.

He spotted the only two other people in the restaurant, besides the three who were already being served by Shay, and made his way over to them.

He hadn’t expected blue eyes.

They looked eerily familiar, but Keith couldn’t remember where he had seen them before, or if he had seen them at all. Sometimes his mind liked to play tricks with him, like the one time he had run after a woman with long white hair, only to catch up with her and stand there and stare. She had looked at him weirdly and pretty much sprinted away from the weird man.

He placed the plates filled with hot food onto the table and let out a long breath, bracing himself. He didn’t know why his heart suddenly paced in its beating.

He smiled at them, holding the tray to his front. “If there’s anything else I can get you, just let me know”

The handsome man with the blue eyes stared up at him, checking him out with a surprised smirk. Keith took that moment to take a look at him, the man looked a few years older than he was. He had dark coffee coloured skin, a muscular body and a pretty face. His blue eyes were calm, but dull in their colour, as if they lacked lustre. He had pointed ears that peeked out from his unruly brunette hair, and Keith couldn’t help but smile at the two light blue triangular shaped marking at the apple of his cheeks.

He was Altean!

But the man still stared at him. So Keith nodded his head and turned to leave. He didn’t get very far when a finger wrapped around the tie of his apron, his knuckle brushing against his skin through the space where his shirt was not tucked into his pants.

The sudden touch caused Keith to gasp. It was like lightening ricocheting through his body. He shuddered and trays in his hands fell to the ground with a crash

He turned back, looking down to the Altean, he was smirking, his lips titling up almost comically. He looked like the cat that had caught the canary.

“There is one thing you can do,” the man said, and Keith took in the dulcet sound of his voice. He had an accent, but Keith couldn’t place what it was.

It was nice, however.

“I don’t believe it,” The man sitting on the opposite side suddenly said. He was staring at Keith with the same concentration as the Altean had been, eyes wide, mouth open in a disbelieving ‘o’. He reached up for Keith, but didn’t touch him. “Your majesty, we have found you,”

Keith paused, taking in the Samoan’s words. Confused, he turned to see if actual royalty had chosen to enter their establishment, but the massive man was staring right at him.

“Who…me?” he asked, pointing to himself.

The man suddenly got up, tugging on Keith’s shoulders, pulling him into a back breaking hug. Keith yelped as he was dragged into the massive mans’ embrace. “Why didn’t you come forth? Your mother is worried sick!”

Keith struggled under the tight grip around his body, the man had the arms of a viper that was for sure. He patted Keith’s head, stroking his hair as he quietly sobbed. When he sought that he couldn’t move, Keith rolled his eyes and fell limp, letting the massive man do whatever he pleased.

The man quickly pulled him back, taking another good look at him. He had a massive smile on his face, his eyes shining with tears.

“We’ve got to get you back to Altea,” he said, turning to the Altean.

“Look, sir. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keith said sliding himself out of the Samoan’s embrace. He held his arms out in a bout of self-defence, lest the man try to hug him again. “I don’t have a mother, well not anymore,”

Whoever this person was, they certainly were being misinformed. There was _something_ familiar about them. But maybe he had seen them on the bus a few times, or maybe they hung out at the café when he was serving. That was explanation enough why his heart was telling him he recognised them, but his head was coming up with blanks.

The Samoan wiped away his tears.

“You’re the missing prince,” The Altean said bluntly, pointing a fork at him.

“Nah, I’m definitely not.” Keith raised his arms, shaking his head as he stepped back. There was no way _that_ was possible. He wasn’t Altean, nor was he human, like he had seen in those newspaper clippings. Sure his name was the same, but he was half Galran. No Altean in their right mind would have allowed him entrance into Altea, let along considered him _prince_ of the kingdom. These guys were certainly wrong.

Or crazy.

He wouldn’t put it past the large one.

“I’m just Keith, Keith Holt.” He announced, picking up the tray from the ground and holding it tightly in his grasp. He was Keith…he may not have known his life before, he may not have known his family, his mother, anyone. But he was _just_ a normal half breed. “I work as a kitchen staff here, and have been for like…fifteen years now. I’m nothing special.”

“Would you like to be?” The Altean said, again so bluntly that it gave Keith whiplash.

Keith narrowed his gaze. “What?”

“Would you like to be special? Get out of this hell hole?” The Altean asked, stabbing his fork into the chicken on his plate, he cut out a slice and held it out before Keith, moving it in a lazy circle. “I can help you, if you’ll help me,”

For some unfathomable reason, he felt happy under the Altean’s teasing, as if he was _used_ to it. Whatever that meant. But he wasn’t going to let this man force him into anything.

He looked _so_ familiar though.

“Do I know you?” Keith tilted his head to one side, trying to remember where he had seen him from. Maybe they crossed paths on his travels to and from work? Maybe he had been in the newspaper?

“The names Lance,” The Altean introduced, pressing the forkful of chicken to Keith’s lips. Keith leaned back, but took a bite of the offending food. “My name travels around,”

“…Lance.” Keith murmured, chewing the food and swallowing.

Albeit, he knew this was probably some kind of rip off, this type of meeting just didn’t happen. _Him?_ The missing prince? It wasn’t possible. But, money was tight, and maybe, _maybe_ if he followed this Altean, this _Lance,_ he’d figure out his forgotten memories.

And if not, he’d find more people to talk to who may be able to help him. Maybe he’d be able to get more information of Pidge’s brothers’ whereabouts along the way _._

_Lance._ Why was this man so warming to him? Why did he feel like he _knew_ this man, intimately, even though he was sure they had never met – probably.

His very existence, the way he spoke, the way he sat, with such crude confidence, it should have aggravated Keith. He never liked people who were so overly confident and arrogant. They always rubbed him the wrong way. But for some reason, some profound intention, Keith found himself wanting to know more about this Lance.

Keith slapped his hand down on the table, gaining the dominance to the conversation, if there was one thing he knew about situations like this, it was that when someone was trying to con through him, gain confidence, show your dominance, and even the swindler could be swindled.

Where had he heard _that_ from?

“If I help you,” Keith asked, eyes narrowing on the Altean, “What do I get out of it?”

“What’s better than living a life in luxury?” Lance replied, leaning back on the booth, arms crossed behind his head, and a smug smile on his lips.

“You’ll get to go to Altea,” Hunk said suddenly, drawing Keith’s attention. “Help return it to its former glory,”

Now _that_ was something worthwhile. He’d always wanted to see Altea in its natural glory, and these men were saying they’d be able to do so. But…how? By him pretending to be the lost prince of Altea? He’d get caught, straight away. He’d get nervous and Galra out, then the princess or the consorts would stake him straight through his heart.

Galran’s were a hated race _before_ Zarkon took over Altea, but now, now they were lower than the scum under someone’s shoe. A detested kind.

“So…lie?” He said, raising an eyebrow. “To the only surviving royal of Altea?”

This asshole was going to get them all killed.

“It’s not a lie,” Lance said, having gone back to eating his meal as if the conversation wasn’t about defying the law, impersonating a royal and conning the princess. “Because you _are_ the lost prince.”

“ _You_ are conning me,” Keith slammed his hand down on the table top again, making the cutlery jump. Water spilled from the glass, and the trays thwapped to the ground once again. Keith knew his eyes were probably a shade more yellow than usual in his anger.

He suddenly knew why that name was so familiar to him. So many customers had told him about one Lance McClain. And about all of the people he’d conned, many of this assholes victims were his customers.

“I’ve heard stories about you, ‘the handsome Altean swindler’.” Keith scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am _not_ the lost prince, and even if I _don’t_ remember my past, it’s surely not as fantastical as you say it is.”

“Alright fine,” Keith paused at Lance’s sudden nonchalance, he had expected the Altean to fight, or argue. Not just roll over and play nice. “You don’t want to remember your past, to remember your poor heartbroken mother, who is obviously still waiting for you. I’m surely not gonna force you,”

Damn it. He was good.

“Wait…” Keith held a hand out to him.

Lance looked up from his food, though his features showed innocence, his eyes were gleaming with superiority and self-satisfaction. And like a fool, Keith felt drawn to them.

Whatever this man was, he certainly wasn’t all Altean that was for sure. Altean’s were supposed to be peaceful, caring and warm. This man…what had made him like this?

“ _If_ I agree to help you,” he said slowly, knowing he had pretty much lost, but he was not about to lose the last shred of power he had in this conversation. _They_ needed _him._ And he was going to throw fuel onto that small flame. “Will you help me find someone?”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “If you’re looking for your mother, that’ll be the princess—”

“That’s not who I mean,” Keith interrupted. “I’m looking for Matthew Holt,”

“And who might _he_ be?” Lance crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing into angry slits.

Why was he angry?

“I have a friend…well, she’s more like a sister,” he replied. He may have given up hope of finding his family – after all, he didn’t really remember anything about them other than those nightmares that made no sense to him, and a wayward daydream, that may have just been that, a fantastical daydream of a life he wanted, not one he had. However, Pidge was family, she knew her brother was out there, she knew who he was, what he looked like, where he had last been seen. If there was any way these two swindlers could help Pidge, he’d say yes to this job in a heartbeat, “Matthew Holt is her missing brother,”

“If I say we’d help,” Lance replied, tilting his head to one side in thought. “You’d agree to us helping _you?”_

“I am not the prince,” he stated once again, “but I will help you, if you help me,”

Lance’s eyes widened, his smirk grew into a wide smile that made his pretty face all the prettier.

“We’ll make a con artist out of you yet!” he said, leaning up to ruffle Keith’s hair. Keith rolled his eyes. “Alright, we should get started straight away,”

Keith turned to see Shay had returned to her post behind the main counter, she nodded to him and he smiled. Turning to the two on the table, he picked up the trays once again and held them to his side.

“ _After_ my shift,” he said defiantly, turning around and making his way to the back of the restaurant and into his office. He could hear the happy chattering of Lance and the Samoan, and he smiled.

If they couldn’t help him, at least he’d help Pidge.

 

The end of his shift came quicker than he had expected it to. Peering out of the kitchen doors, he saw that Lance and Hunk were still sitting in the booth, waiting for him. Pidge had finished her shift as well, and she was sitting with the two, talking animatedly to them about something or another.

Better get this over with now.

Keith pulled open the small fridge in the back office and picked up four bottles of alcohol, it was a Balmeran specialty pop soda with fermented hops that tasted as close to alcohol as it could, without the harrowing aftereffects of a hangover. It was something Keith really needed if he was really going to go along with the whole façade of pretending to be a prince.

…the missing prince of Altea. It was an interesting thought.

He set the bottles down in the middle of the table, and sat on the available seat opposite Lance, next to Hunk. This way, he was able to look directly at the swindler and judge him on his actions. The other three took the bottles and popped them open.

Hunk let out a low burp as the bubbles of the frothy drink ticked his throat. Pidge giggled next to him, taking a swig of her drink. Keith leaned in for the last bottle on the table, but Lance took it, along with his own, sliding it away from the half breeds awaiting hands.

“Hey!” Keith growled, stretching for the bottle that was just out of reach. Maybe sitting next to the large and muscular Hunk hadn’t been the best idea. “That’s mine!”

“No, you’re too young.” Lance said, sliding the bottle to the other corner of the table popping open his own bottle and taking a sip from it.

Keith crossed his arms over his chest, glaring. “What about you?”

“I’m twenty nine, I can drink legally,” Lance said, tapping the bottom of the bottle on the table. He leaned in closer, eyeing the half breed. “You can’t be a day over nineteen,”

“I’m twenty seven,” Keith stated smugly.

Lance’s eyes widened in shock, “Holy crap, what kind of beauty cream do you use? I gotta get me one of those!”

“It’s biological,” Keith said, knowing it was because he was half breed. The ageing process was a lot slower for certain breeds and species. Like Galran’s and Altean’s, some could live for centuries if they took care of themselves enough. “You said you were twenty nine,”

Lance shrugged his shoulders, handing Keith the bottle. “Yeah, but I’m Altean, we don’t age quickly,”

“Neither do I,” Keith took the bottle and popped it open at the side of the table. He wasn’t going to tell the Altean anymore. Galran’s were the enemy, and even though he had no intention of attacking or acting like the stereotypical Galran’s that had taken siege over Altea, he didn’t want mutiny in the restaurant.

The froth bubbled up at the neck before bubbling over. Keith took a sip of the fruity alcohol, taking the chance to rest his weary head. Whatever this Altean was offering, he wasn’t going to buy it straight away. He was going to try and find out as much as he could before he signed his life away.

He was not the missing prince.

For one thing, he was a half breed, a half Galran. An abomination. He was forever part of a detested kind. And he was not an Altean like the prince had been. Therefore, no matter how much he wished it, he could not be a prince. Missing or otherwise.

“So what _are_ you then?” Lance asked, leaning in closer, his body stretching over the table. His breath had the distinct scent of the fruity alcohol, and his eyes were slightly glazed over. He was getting drunk.

Keith rolled his eyes, the guy couldn’t even take a drink.

Pidge answered for him, wagging her eyebrows suggestively, “Why don’t you take the time to find out?”

Keith yelled Pidge’s name, embarrassed at his friend. But Lance dropped back onto his chair with a whump, and gave him a once over, checking him out. Keith turned a shade of red and looked away.

“Oh, I’m going to take my time on you,” Lance said, his eyes half lidded, smirk smug and wide.

Keith rolled his eyes.

“Guys, I gotta say,” Hunk said, reaching out and taking Keith in a breath taking one armed hug. “I think we might be able to pull this off!”

Great, _two_ lightweights.

 

The night grew, and soon Keith found himself smiling and laughing along with the two Altean’s before him. Pidge had taken to falling asleep on the table next to him, bottle teetering precariously in her hand, the alcopop having dripped into a small pool on the table before her.

She had been talking technological jargon with Hunk, who had been following along and replying in kind. Which was surprising, because not many people could keep up with the genius that was Pidge Holt. But soon after, she had fallen asleep, too tired from the day and the lack of sleep last night.

Keith shrugged Hunk’s arm from around his shoulders, the guy really was a clingy drunk it seemed. But he was warm and heavy, Keith felt very safe around the man.

He looked up at the clock at the corner of the room and saw that it was a few minutes passed midnight. He had already turned off most of the lights to the restaurant and flipped the sign to say the store was closed, and Pidge had taken to counting the days’ earnings and everything else. But that seemed like hours ago.

“We gotta find the gorgeous man,” Lance suddenly said, pointing a finger to Hunk, alcopop bottle in hand. His breath smelled of sweetened berries and thankfully not too much of the pungent scent of alcohol. For that, Keith was glad.

Hunk leaned forward, hands flat on the table. “You’re right! Let’s go now!”

Lance chuckled, a low, deep and surprisingly rich sound that was soothing to Keith’s ears. He suddenly had the urge to let his Galra ears come out and have the tanned Altean scratch at them.

“We can’t do it now,” Lance continued, thudding his bottle onto the ground, he held a hand to his mouth when a little bit spilled onto the table. “It’s night time, Coran needs his beauty sleep,”

“Aah…gorgeous man needs to stay gorgeous,” Hunk nodded, agreeing with Lance.

The alcopop was definitely alcoholic enough for them to get a bit tipsy, but looking at the mass of bottles the four had accumulated, it was safe to say that they were all pretty solidly out of it. God they were all _so very drunk_.

Thankfully, because of his half-Galran nature, it took a little bit more than a few alcopops to lay Keith to waste. But it also meant that, as he was tipsy himself, he was able to see the true nature of the two Altean’s. After spending the past few hours just listening to Lance talk. It seemed the scary Altean was pretty much all talk. He was rough and downright unlikeable, but with the way he was with Hunk, all soft and almost kitten like, Keith could see he was using his sarcastic and tough nature to hide his kindness and caring self.

But what had happened to him to make a complete change in his life like that? And which was the real Lance? The one he showed, or the one he hid?

Keith was curious to know.

But, unfortunately, it was well past midnight, and they had to rest before their big expedition tomorrow. They had spent the last few hours going through “the biggest plan in history”, as Lance kept saying.

Keith knew it was a con, because there was no way in hell he was the lost prince of Altea, but then again, he had motive to join. He’d see more people, speak to them, and maybe he’d find his actual parents this way. If not, he was adamant to find Pidge’s brother. At least one of them should have a happy reunion.

The “biggest plan in history”, or as Keith liked to call it, “the biggest _con_ in history” was simple, Lance and Hunk knew a lot about the real prince and the castle – though they never did divulge into just _how_ they knew so much – all they had to do was try and jumpstart Keith’s memories by telling him things about himself. Things about the lost prince.

Or, as Keith liked to think, replace his forgotten memories with the memories of the lost prince, in order for it to look like he was indeed the lost prince coming back for a beautiful reunion with his loving mother.

It was like they were brainwashing him in a weird, almost machinated way.

Once his memory had been “jumpstarted” enough, then they’d meet Coran, one of the head advisors from the Altean castle court. Coran, who was surprisingly close to the princess herself, would see to them first. If he believed Keith to be the real prince, then they’d meet the princess herself – wherever she had chosen to hide herself this time – and have that wonderful reunion.

They’d never get that far. Keith was sure of it.

With a sigh, he noticed Hunk’s arms wavering as it held his head aloft from the table. His eyes were closing in an alcohol induced sleep. And instead of watch the success of gravity taking root on his head and the table, Keith nudged him back to consciousness.

“We should go,” he stated, motioning to the time.

Lance opened his mouth to say something, but after a few moments, he just closed it again. His gaze locked onto the clock and he sighed.

“Pretty boy is right,” He pushed his almost empty bottle into the middle of the table. It clinked among the many others. “Meet at the train station tomorrow morning?”

“Eight o’clock sharp,” Keith said, sliding out of the booth. He picked up the bottles, emptying them out in the sink, and threw them in the recycling bin behind them. He’d probably have a lot of money docked out of his pay because of those three.

“Eight in the _morning?”_ Lance almost yelled, standing up and slamming his palms onto the table. The sudden sound caused Hunk’s hovering face to fall successfully to gravity and thud onto the table. He yelped and Pidge suddenly woke up with a snort, she glared up at him with bleary eyes and groaned.

Keith held back a chuckle and nodded to Lance. “Sharp,”

Lance looked appalled, but rolled his eyes and nodded. “Fine, whatever. We’ll be there.”

Pidge fell back to unconsciousness, her head resting on her arms, not allowing Lance a means to leave. So Keith returned to the booth, reaching for his faux-sister and lifted her up into his arms. Pidge opened her eyes long enough to settle herself onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Keith held onto her thighs, straightening her more securely in a piggy back.

Lance stumbled out of the booth, tugging Hunk along with him. He stretched his arms up, and Keith couldn’t help but notice the small slip of succulent looking skin he let bare at his waist.

Keith broke himself from staring, but Lance saw him and winked. Keith turned a faint shade of red.

“Tomorrow then,” Lance said, taking Hunks arm and dragging his friend to the door.

Keith nodded, following him. He turned off the lights, did a quick final check of all of the restaurants locks and bolts, thankful that Pidge had taken the time out before meeting them to do everything else to close up shop. He locked the door behind them, jostling Pidge more carefully onto his back.

He nodded to Lance, giving the man a quaint goodbye and watched as the tall Altean helped the massive Samoan down the street. Rechecking the door one last time, Keith slipped his keys into his pocket and straightened Pidge onto his back once again, before setting off to the bus stop down the street.

The street was completely empty, as was the stop, and there was still a little while before the next bus was to come. Keith nudged at Pidge, wanting her to settle onto the cold bench instead. But Pidge just hugged his neck tighter, not wanting to move. Keith sighed, and settled into the bus shelter, standing in the corner, away from the cold breeze, but still able to see when the bus arrived.

“Keith,” Pidge murmured into his shoulder, she was facing out, looking for the oncoming bus too. “Do you think maybe you _could_ be the lost prince?”

Keith stilled, the thought had crossed his mind when he had first heard of the story of the lost prince, but now, knowing what he was, he knew it was impossible.

“No way,” he answered, but he was a lot less confident of that now, especially after the conversation he had just had with Lance and Hunk. “That’s not possible,”

Pidge shrugged off his back, settling onto the bench next to him, she shivered a little and tightened her jacket around her smaller frame.

“I think you are,” she stated, breathing out warm air into her cold hands. “The prince was thirteen when he was taken, and you looked thirteen when I met you,”

Keith’s thoughts returned to the night he had woken up, staring at a younger Pidge with large wire glasses and a worried expression on her face. He had thought she was related to him, with how worried she had been. But once the doctor had checked his health, she had told him everything that had happened. About finding him in the train, close to death, and he hadn’t remembered anything before seeing her. And like a baby bird, he had imprinted on her.

“Fifteen years later, he’d be around twenty eight,” Pidge continued, looking out to the empty streets. “That’s the same age as you, now.”

Keith knew they didn’t technically know how old he was, but he believed to be closer to thirty than twenty, and because of his heritage, he aged slower, that would also deter any actual accurate age.

“Yeah, there’s just one problem with that,” Keith said, peering out alongside her. He could see the bus turning the corner and puttering to their stop. “I’m half Galran.”

Pidge shrugged her shoulders, standing up and pulling her bus card out from her back pocket. Keith did the same and stood behind her, waiting for the bus to arrive. It stopped in front of them with a loud hiss, and the doors opened. The bus only had a few people sitting on the seats inside, not paying the two any attention.

“That’s why I’m going with you,” she said, showing her pass to the driver and seeking out a seat. Keith did the same and settled into the seat next to her. “To help you hide your dark side,”

Keith chuckled, slipping his pass onto his pocket. Pidge rested her head onto Keith’s shoulder, knowing he didn’t mind. And they both rested in silence, sobering up as much as they could. They had a long night of packing ahead of them.

“But…what if you are?” she whispered, so low he barely heard her.

“The princess will know,” Keith replied confidently. Yes, the princess would see right through him. And then she’d tell him the truth. “And when she tells me I’m not the prince, maybe she can help me find my real parents,”

“It’s worth trying to find out,” Pidge murmured, pressing in closer to Keith as the bust turned another corner.

Keith wrapped his arm brotherly around her shoulder and patted her on the top of her head, “Thanks for coming with me Pidge,”

Pidge chuckled, shuffling into his warmth. “We Holts have gotta stick together,”

 

Lance pushed open the door to his and Hunk’s apartment. He dropped his keys onto the small bowl on the side table. They made a loud clunk against the ceramic.

Hunk bodily pushed Lance away and made his way to the bathrooms, most likely to throw up the drinks he had taken. Poor thing was such a lightweight when it came to this kind of thing. They had been brought up to drinking the remains of fine wine at the castle. Even though it had been fifteen years since then, the tongue knew what it desired, and drinking alcopop was an acquired taste.

Keith…this _fake_ Keith was probably not the prince. He looked like him, he had the same coal blue eyes, and dark hair – though it was in a weird mullet like style, he had filled out a bit, he was a lot more muscular, taller too. And there was something about him, something Lance just could not place.

But then again it had been fifteen years since he had last seen the prince. Fifteen years since he had lied to his best friend and left him in the safety of royal guard and the princess.

Why hadn’t he followed?

“Lance? What’s the matter?” Hunk asked, stepping out of the bathroom and clicking off the light. He looked a lot better than when he first entered the apartment. “I thought you’d be happier, we found the perfect contender,”

“Yeah, I am. It’s just…” Lance looked down to the ground, his hand finding the light switch and turning it on. The quaint living room was suddenly illuminated with a harsh artificial light. He slumped onto the crummy looking sofa, holding his head in his hands.

Hunk sat down next to him, holding a pillow to his front and squeezing it tight.

“I look at him,” Lance continued, not looking up from the ground, “And I think maybe if this all works out, the princess will finally be happy, even if it’s just for a moment. And maybe Altea will finally return to its former glory,”

Hunk tilted his head to one side, “I thought your plan was to take the reward and use it to find the real prince?”

He saw Lance’s shoulders shake, and he knew his friend was trying to hide back tears. They had both lost someone close to them, Hunk had lost the child he had been guarding, but Lance…Lance had lost his best friend.

“I just want my Keith back,” Lance said, his voice wavering with the tears he was holding back. “He was my _best friend._ ”

And that was when he broke down, holding his hands to his face and sobbing quietly into it. He was usually so strong, so confident, but the alcohol must have loosened his mind up enough for him to be vulnerable in front of anyone.

“Sure he was a prince, and I’m just a kitchen boy,” Lance continued, tears pooling in his hands and dripping from his fingers. “But he didn’t care about that, he was _my Keith.”_

Hunk immediately reached out for him and held him close. He wrapped his arms tight around Lance’s shaking body, patting him on his back and running his fingers soothingly through his hair.

“Maybe you can make _this_ Keith your Keith,” Hunk supplied. “He’s also kitchen staff, and he looks and acts like the prince,”

“Because _we’re_ going to teach him how to act like the prince,” Lance said, glaring up at Hunk. He knew the Samoan guardian was trying to be nice, but Lance really didn’t want that right now.

“You’re so stubborn,” Hunk moaned, patting him on his head, like a father would do for a child. “Take what you can get, not many people get second chances,”

Hunk had a point.

They’d have to teach Keith all about how to act like a prince, what to do and what to say. Lance could try and find _his_ Keith in this new Keith. Sure he’d know the fake Keith wouldn’t be the real one, the one from his childhood, but he could dream.

He’d miss stroking Prince Keith’s half-Galran ears; that was for sure. But then again, that was what Pidge was for. She was going to create a cloaking device to help the fake Keith look Galran.

No one, other than the princess, the royal knight, the king, Hunk and Lance knew about the prince being a half breed. But he knew, this would be the best way to get the princess to take their fake-prince and run with him.

“Maybe I could...” Lance murmured to himself.

Maybe…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coran, Coran the gorgeous man!


	4. Taujeer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the late update.  
> Life has been piling around me. And its affecting my time in writing.  
> But here's the next installment.

Taujeer was a city unlike any other.

The entire city was created to float over the yellowing waters below. The waters themselves were polluted and almost poisonous in their state. Any kind of preservation from it was denied. No boat could sail over it,  and no one could swim in it.

The city itself was built on platforms, or ‘moons’ as they called them, high above the waters. There were clusters of large blocks all squared off and mechanical looking from the bottom. Yet above them, the buildings scraped the clouds, beautiful cathedrals shone, and there was gospel voices that illuminated the greatness of the city, masking the harshness of the deadly waters below. It gave a completely different nature to the city itself.

To get from one moon to the other, the Taujeerian’s used shuttles and cable cars that were suspended over the yellowing waters. There were barriers and mechanical netting draped over the bottom of each and every gap and platform, to protect anyone who may have accidentally fallen from the platform itself. The very waters below glowed and gleamed in the moonlight, and shone with their clear as day depths in the sunlight.  Though the city was delightful to look at, the Taujeerian’s were a sight to behold, looking like giant, beautiful tardigrades, like massive insects, with bodies that were segregated in their sects, large eyes, and four arms. They were large and many were threatening, though none of them had any ill intentions, most of them just kept to themselves.

Taujeer was a city for people who liked change, who wanted to better themselves. If you had a dream, you came here. If you wanted to start something great, Taujeer was the place to do so.

Keith looked out the window of the large bus they were currently in, and down to the yellowing waters below. They had taken a long bus ride through the bustling city of Balmera in hopes to get to Taujeer because Pidge needed a few more things for her project. It was on the way to Altea, so it wasn’t too far out of their way.

Keith had been up, bright and early, ready to greet the day. He had spent the rest of last night packing and repacking things he may need for their trip, unable to really sleep. His mind had been filled with the thoughts of going on this grand adventure and the possibility of finding his real family.

Through his excitement however, Pidge’s words still played in his mind. What if he _was_ the lost prince?

If what she had said was true, then the idea of him being the prince seemed to make some sort of sense. He had read all of the old newspapers and articles about the lost prince. How the young Altean had been estranged from his family and presumed lost when he was thirteen, and how the princess and her royal guard had been captured by the villains that had taken over the castle, after killing the king.

If it hadn't been for the current king Zarkon, who had used his power to destroy every last species that had attacked the city and killed the king. Altea may have been lost. But with the princess in hiding, the prince lost and the king killed. There was no one else to rule over Altea, so King Zarkon took it upon himself to keep Altea safe in his ruling until the princess, or the lost prince came to take what was rightfully theirs.

The story seemed too fairy tale to Keith. But he had to believe the newspapers. They usually knew the truth.

But now that they were making their way to Altea, he was questioning everything about the stories he had heard when he was young. What if Zarkon hadn't saved them, but in fact taken the kingdom for himself? That would explain why the princess was still in hiding after fifteen years.

He didn't want to believe her dead. Not with the many people pretending to be the lost prince coming to her consorts. Just like Keith was. He had heard so many stories about the beauty of the princess, he just wanted to  _see_ her. He was sure she would help him find his parents.

When he had met Pidge, she had said he looked about thirteen, the same age as when the prince had been stated as 'lost'. And it had been fifteen years since then. So most likely he was at least the same age as the lost prince now. However whether or not that was true…well, that was something else entirely.

It didn’t make sense to him. But he had a fantastical idea of him being the lost prince, living in the beautiful castle in Altea. His mother being the beautiful princess, and his father being the royal guard, or some dignitary. Or something important. They would all love him, holding him close and comforting him when he was scared or sad. He'd sit with them on a large table, eating dinner with his family. Laughing and enjoying each other. He’d have spent all of his childhood in the castle, living in luxury. He had been happy with his parents by his side, sleeping in a comfy bed and not having to worry about when his next meal was.

But when he looked at himself in the mirror, saw the Galran ears pop out and his eyes turn a tumulus shade of yellow, that feeling quickly shattered.

He wasn’t the prince. Most definitely not.

And yet, he still didn’t understand what it was about Lance that had made him say yes to the crazy scheme. What was it about that con man that made Keith want to trust him? It was as if Keith had known him, more so that just their first meeting a few hours ago. 

 _Had_ they met before? Maybe he had forgotten?

His head throbbed at the thought, and he sighed. There was no point to dwell on that now. They were going to make a quick pit stop in this city, before getting back on the train and taking it all the way to Arus, where they were last told Coran was living.

If everything went according to plan after meeting the gorgeous man, as Lance had so eloquently put, then they’d be on a train straight to wherever the princess was, and then from there they would all have a beautiful reunion and make their way back to Altea, usurp the current king and return the Holy City back to the beauty it had been before.

Easy.

Yeah right. There were thousands of ways that ‘perfectly laid plan’ could go wrong.

“Oi, don’t hog the jelly babies,” Lance growled from in front of Keith, he elbowed Hunk in the side. The large Samoan had indeed taken the large packet of jelly babies that had started off in the centre of the table. He was currently stuffing a few in his mouth, chewing on them.

There were barely any left now.

Going around on such an adventure with these two was going to take a lot out of Keith, he was sure of it. He had yet to get frustrated or angry enough to go out against the two, or even go as far as to Galra out, but it was only the start. Who knew, he might just do it to scare the two. They’d never expect him to be something so disgusting after all.

Keith sighed and his gaze returned to the cityscape outside of the bus.

He had never been out here, not that he could remember from his childhood. But he was sure he’d remember this city. The seascape of Taujeer was haunting, frighteningly so. The sun was blearing down as the bus climbed the road leading up to the city, Keith could see all the way down to the very depths of the yellow sea, and it blew his mind.

It looked like a crystal clear lake that spanned to the horizon, except for the neon yellow colour that bled into his eyes. It was so deep too, almost never ending. But it was beautiful, and he could imagine the need for people to jump in and swim around in it.

If it weren’t poisonous, he’d have done the same.

The bus continued to climb the tracks built for it, and soon the blinding yellow was overtaken by the beauty of the city itself. The city was bustling and busy, much like Balmera had been. There were people milling about around the streets, rushing back and forth to their destinations. Little kids were playing in the large park at the very centre of the town square the bus had chosen to route around.

Lance leaned out to the window and smirked. The bus puttered to a stop just outside the square and the doors opened with a loud hiss. Keith reached up to the overhead compartment and pulled Pidge’s and his bag from above. Hunk suddenly stood up and took the bags from Keith’s hand.

“You shouldn’t exert yourself, your highness,” he said, throwing their bags to Lance.

Lance glowered but took the bags and slung them onto his back. Keith reached out for him, wanting to get his bag back, but Lance shrugged him off and made his way to the front of the bus.

Keith narrowed his gaze, watching Lance’s back, and meandered his way through the many people also getting off the bus. He took his bag from Lance’s strong grasp and slung it around his own shoulders.

Lance laughed, it was a little tinkling sound that made Keith want to lean in close and listen. He shrugged his shoulders, tugging Keith to the streets, rather than blocking the bus entrance, and turned to the busy streets.

“Welcome to Taujeer,” he said, sweeping his arms out to the streets. He turned back to Keith, bowing down low, holding a hand to his chest, the other still out. “Your highness,”

“Don’t call me that,” Keith said automatically, he didn’t want to be called something he was definitely not. Especially by Lance.

Lance froze in his spot. It was only when Hunk thumped him on his back that he came back to reality. He straightened himself out, slinging his bag on his back more securely, and set off ahead of the three down the streets.

The sun beat down on them pleasantly as they walked through the busy streets, Keith wanted to stop at a few places that caught his eye, but he didn’t think it was possible to. They were just going to go in to wherever Pidge wanted to go, and then leave.

It was surprising how pretty a large town on a hovering platform could look, everything seemed so space aged, yet the ground below them seemed solid instead of hollow. The people milling about looked _normal_. It was only until you reached the edge of the perfectly straight platforms edge, and looked down to the abyss that was the yellowing waters below under the reinforced nets and barriers, that you really understood you were floating in the air.

It was fascinating.

Pidge beelined for a small shop in the middle of the street, the shop boasted all sorts of flowers and plants on the outside, inside were a few cages filled with odd looking animals in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Some were moving in the back of their individual cages, other were screeching at Keith.

Not being able to take the noise, or the drug like stench that permeated the small space, Keith ducked back out of the shop and into the busy streets. He saw Lance and Hunk at the corner, talking to each other about something.

As soon as Keith stepped out of the shop, they stopped talking and looked directly at him. The silence was awkward, and Keith suddenly wished he had stayed in the store. But it was too late now.

“Everything okay, your highness?” Hunk asked, reaching a comforting hand to his shoulder.

Keith nodded, not really sure where to go with any of this. He still couldn’t believe he had said yes to these two. But here he was, with two conmen and Pidge by his side, in a completely different city.

What was it about these two that made it so easy for Keith to trust them? He wasn’t an easy or trusting person. Not by a longshot. Yet…there was _something_ about them. Something in his instincts told him that they were good people. Conmen sure, but _good_.

But they were still strangers, keeping something from him. And he was going to find out just what that was.

Pidge appeared from the entrance to the shop a few moments later. She held a small black box in her hand, it was about palm size, if not a little bigger. And it smelled absolutely awful. The scent stung his nose, and whatever her purchase was, was inside a thick box, but it still smelled disgusting.

“Shall we go?” she asked, she shoved it into her bag and slung her bag back over her shoulder. The scent dimmed a little, thankfully, now that it was in her bag.

“I am not sitting next to you,” Lance said, holding his hands up and sidestepping towards Hunk.

Pidge rolled her eyes. “This is all for _your_ little project,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. Her stomach gave a rumble, and she sighed. “Can we get something to eat before we leave?”

“I know just the place,” Lance said, holding his hand up to the sky, finger pointing to the large skyscraper in the distance.

Lugging their bags, they quickly made their way through the street and to the very edge. Lance paid a few coin for the cable cars. They all got in one small one, with many other giant Taujeerians, and slowly the cabin started to move. It climbed through the sky, being suspended over the yellowing waters below.

The cable car stopped at another smaller platform, there were people milling around here too, however they looked vastly different to the people on the platforms below. It was safe to say this was the rich side of the city. There were men dressed in fine suits, and women adorned with jewellery. Fast cars and sports cars rushed around them, zooming down the street. Messengers on bikes meandered through them, holding onto parcels and packages as they couriered from one end of the platform to the other. The buildings reached high in the sky, all glitzy and glamorous, shining bright and emblazoned with foreign names in swirling letters.

This was how the rich lived…

Though he was fascinated, Keith wasn’t so fond of it. But he dutifully followed Lance as the taller Altean made his way through the many richer Taujeerian’s. He held his head high, puffing his chest out and walking with a confidence Keith didn’t think he’d ever have. But he copied the man. This was that kind of town after all, they preyed on the weak here.

Lance stopped in front of a beautiful restaurant, he could barely make out the name of the restaurant with all the swirls and curls it had. The inside was no different, there were smartly dressed servers and waiters and waitresses, all in black and white suits, with ties and aprons around their legs. They all moved with precision ease through the many circular tables and chairs, holding aloft small portions of food in large plates. It was all so pretentious, all the way up to the swanky music playing in the air.

Though the restaurant wasn’t busy, as it was still just the lunch hour, it had a few patrons, each who were wearing an extensive amount of perfume and aftershave that made Keith’s head throb. He sought it impolite to hold a hand to his nose, but he seriously wished he wasn’t half-Galran with an acute sense of smell at that very moment.

There were women laughing, men chuckling and that god awful music playing. It was the complete opposite to what Keith was used to. Vox was nothing like this awful place.

But Lance sauntered in like he owned the place. He held his hand out to a pretty woman who had come in from the back rooms of the restaurant. She held her arms out to hug him, but Lance stepped back.

“Arka!” Lance said, taking another step back away from her advancing form.

Keith didn’t understand why Lance did that. She was pretty, alright so she had the exoskeleton of an insect, with its separate sects, but she was skinny, had four arms and her face was slim and beautiful. Her eyes were wide and black all over, and she had sharp incisors peeking from the corners of her lips. She was alien, but pretty.

Lance looked around the restaurant, before settling on her. “How is Baujal?”

“Father is fine,” Arka replied, crossing her lower arms across her waist. She reached forth for Lance with her upper arms, but frowned when he took another step back.

“And Markov?” Lance continued.

Arka hmphed. “Are you ever just going to come because you missed me?”

“Of course,” Lance said, reaching for her and wrapping her in his arms. He groaned in pain when all four of her arms wrapped around him, keeping him in place.

Keith felt a sting of anger prod into him, and he really didn’t understand why. But he suddenly had an image of pushing the pretty insect away from his Lance.

Wait… _not his Lance._ Urgh, great. Fifteen years of meeting cute guys and he felt nothing for them, and yet this…this… _Lance_ saunters into his life, and he suddenly wants to keep the Altean all for himself.

God damn it. Why was his life so fucked up? Crushing a con man! What was next?

Arka lead them to a secluded spot near the back of the shop. She noticed Keith and took a step back. Keith quickly glanced down to his hand, hoping his skin hadn’t involuntarily turned a shade of purple. When he saw it was still the ‘more human’ pale skin colour, he tilted his head to one side in confusion.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, motioning him to sit down next to Lance. She rounded the table and handed them their menus. “I’ll be back to take your orders.”

Keith nodded, shrugging his bag and jacket off, hanging them onto the back of the seat, He sat down next to Lance narrowed his eyes at the amount of cutlery placed in front of him. There were so many knives and forks, four different plates all piled up upon one another, and three separate glasses. Picking up the small menu in front of him, he raised an eyebrow to Pidge. She shrugged her shoulders, having seen the odd way the waitress had talked to him.

A few moments of perusing the menu, Keith really wished they had stopped in an ordinary drive through, or even a sandwich shop. Everything here was either vastly expensive, or had ingredients in it that Keith was not used to seeing. It was like it was in a completely different language.

Oddly enough, Lance seemed to be in his element. He had pointed out a few things that he thought he and Pidge would like. It was “the closest to fast food as they could get here” as Lance put it.

When Arka returned, with a paper pad in her hand, and a pencil poised in the other, Keith floundered. Even though Lance had quickly explained what most of the things meant, none of them seemed appetising.

Lance instead took the initiative and ordered for them all. She nodded, writing everything down and left them.

“Where are we heading after here?” Pidge asked, taking a sip of her tall glass of cold water. She placed it back on the table clothed table, grinning when a water drop pooled underneath and wetted the cloth.

Lance leaned in close, making the others do the same, “This is not a safe place to talk about _you know what,_ ”

Keith was intrigued by that. Lance actually looked worried. He hadn’t stopped glancing around the restaurant. His gaze always landed to the three large hulking men sitting in the dark corner of the restaurant. Those men seemed to be minding their own business, but the largest one in the very middle kept on eyeing Lance. It made the nerves inside Keith bristle up in anger. He had a bad feeling about this.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lance continued, “Let’s just eat, and leave.”

 _That_ worried Keith all the more.

Arka returned a few moments later with two large trays in her four arms. She placed all four down in front of them. When she reached Lance, she leaned into him.

“Markov isn’t happy,” she murmured, forcing a smile as she poured in a drink in his second empty glass. “Don’t be an idiot, dad won’t clean up all your messes,”

“You wound me,” Lance scoffed, motioning her away. “I won’t if he won’t,”

Akra narrowed her gaze but left them to their food.

Keith had to admit, the food did look rather appetising, though it was small in portion size. It looked like a slider burger, with all sorts of extra amenities to it. His stomach groaned at not being fed, and he reached out for it. But looking up, he saw Pidge ad Hunk had picked up their knives and forks and were cutting into their own foods.

Who ate a burger with a knife and fork?

“Should I do a taste test, prince?” Lance teased, reaching his fork to Keith’s plate. “You know, to make sure it’s not poisoned?”

Keith glared at him, but copied the others. He didn’t want to be impolite. Bravely, he picked whatever fork and knife came into his reach and started cutting away at the small burger. A burst of flavour erupted in his mouth and he closed his eyes, savouring it.

“Our prince likes his food,” Lance chuckled, taking a bite of his own salad based whatever it was.

Keith rolled his eyes, glaring at the Altean. “Don’t start,”

The fell into a comfortable silence, slowly eating the delicious food. Keith kept an eye on the three large men sitting on the corner booth. There was something off about them, but he really wasn’t sure what. The middle one, most definitely the leader of the trio, leaned into one of them and whispered in his ear. Keith wished he could bring his Galran ears out to hear what they were saying, but that would freak everyone out in the restaurant. And he really didn’t want to be kicked out and ostracized.

The man the leader had spoken to nodded, and shifted in his seat. Suddenly, everything around Keith turned cold. The others in his group didn’t seem to notice the change in atmosphere. But Keith was sure, in the pit of his stomach, that something was going to happen.

He nudged Lance’s side, hoping he understood and saw what was happening. Lance winced and growled.

“What?” He asked, eyes narrow and fiery.

Keith shook his head, knowing it was pointless to stare at the man. He already knew he had a teeny, tiny bit of a crush on the Altean, there was no point of pursuing that now by being a creep and just staring.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” he said, motioning with his eyes to the two people in the booth…wait two? Where was the third?

The table jolted, the cutlery jerking and a few glasses tipping over. The third man came into view. Lance suddenly got up, his glass having tipped over and the cold water spilling onto his jeans.

He turned with the intent to yell at the man who bumped into him, but the man had disappeared. With another growl, Lance tried to wipe away the wet, but it was too much. Keith handed him one of the cloth napkins on the table, but his gaze didn’t leave the two men. The third one was still not back from wherever he had just gone.

Maybe it was an accident? But he wasn’t going to rule anything out yet.

Arka and another waitress appeared at Lance’s side, helping him out. But Lance brushed them off.

“I’ll be back,” he groaned, making his way to the bathrooms.

The waitress bowed to them, apologising for the mishap. Hunk nodded, telling them it was okay, and that there wasn’t much damage. One of the waitresses came to his side, patting a cloth against his chair. Keith jumped back, having not noticed the water had spilled so far.

“It’s alright, I’ve got it,” the waitress said, patting at his wetted leg.

He brushed her off and stepped back. His gaze quickly returned to the booth and saw it was completely empty. He darted his gaze to the rest of the restaurant and didn’t spot the large men anywhere.

Maybe he was being too paranoid, but a bad feeling sunk like a stone in his gut. His gaze turned to the entrance to the bathrooms. Lance hadn’t come back yet.

“I’m gonna go check on Lance,” he said to the others, not waiting for a reply. He made his way to the bathrooms and pushed the door open.

He heard a mumble of conversation, followed by what sounded like a body falling to the ground. Oh god, was that Lance? He pushed the door open and rushed inside. His eyes widened when he saw the three men surrounding a fallen Lance, he had a red welt on his cheek that was slowly turning darker and darker with each second.

They had hurt _his Lance?_

Keith growled, the sound more animalistic than he had intended it to be. But he let instinct take over. The same instinct that told him Lance was something precious to him. His thoughts were clouded with Lance’s blue eyes, similar to the eyes he always saw in his dreams. And soon he found he had completely transformed into his Galran state, and was crouched over the unconscious Lance. In his haste, he hadn’t noticed he had knocked out two of the large men. He bared his teeth at the last man, the leader, hissing at him.

The leader scrambled back, fear filling his eyes at the Galran growling at him. He stumbled to the ground and scaling up the tiled walls. The auto dryer suddenly turned on behind him, and Keith was on him. His claws out, he slashed down the leaders chest, cutting through his suit shirt. The leader gasped, and fell back in a dead faint.

The bathroom doors slammed open, and Keith bared his teeth at whoever had entered.

“Keith?” It was Pidge, she held her hands up in a submissive motion, walking slowly towards him. She looked behind him, and Keith crowded over the unconscious Lance once again.

“It’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you, _or him,_ ” Pidge continued, taking slow steps closer to the two. “Now please turn back,”

Keith sucked in a breath, taking in Pidge’s familiar scent, and slowly felt himself reverting back to his usual self. His skin shed the purple, his fangs receded and his eyes turned back to their natural coal blue.

“Good,” she continued, just as soothing and calming as she had been before. She reached out for him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Keith nodded. The doors opened again and Hunk came in, frantic, holding onto a few paper bags.

“Sorry I’m late,” He said, shuffling the bags in his hand. “Arka wouldn’t let me leave without taking the food, those arms man— _Lance?_ Is Lance okay?”

He dropped the bags onto the ground and fell to Lance’s side. Keith moved back, unsure what to do, but Pidge was at his side.

“Are you alright, your highness?” Hunk suddenly said, picking Lance up and settling his unconscious body onto his broad back.

Keith nodded, holding a hand to his chest. He looked down at the mild carnage he had created in the small bathrooms and honestly felt like throwing up. He didn’t know what had happened. As soon as he had seen Lance on the ground, unconscious, and those three men huddled around him, his body had just reacted.

He hadn’t even known he had turned Galran if it weren’t for Pidge placating him. He could have killed these three men, and all for Lance.

Looking up at Lance, he swallowed bile. What if next time he wasn’t able to help himself? What if Pidge didn’t make it to him on time? What if someone else found out about him? 

He was usually so in control of his other half, he was always able to keep his Galran side at bay. But what was it about Lance that made him lose all control?

“We should bunk somewhere for the night,” Pidge offered.

Hunk nodded, and they all made their way out of the bathrooms. They were stopped at the entrance of the restaurant by a large Taujeerian, he had a striking resemblance to Arka.

“Mr. Garret? What happened to Mr. McClain?”

“It’s alright, Mr. Baujal,” Hunk chuckled, shifting Lance on his back. “He got a bit frisky with his lover,”

“Oh my,” Baujal replied, his gaze zoning in to Keith. The half breed turned a bright shade of red, and looked away. “Well, romance is in the air,”

Keith was about to speak back, to tell the man what really happened. But Hunk clapped his back roughly, and ushered him out of the restaurant.

“We’re very sorry about the mess in the bathroom,” Pidge replied, following Hunk out of the building.

As soon as they were out, they made a run for the nearest train station. Once Baujal found the three unconscious men heaped in the mens toilets, he was definitely going to want to ask them questions.

It was only once they were in the clear that they stopped. The train station was really just a platform at the very edge of the floating island. It was surprisingly empty. Looking down, the yellowing waters seemed miles and miles away.

“I can’t believe you did that, your highness!” Hunk said, hiding back a bout of chuckles. He placed Lance down on an empty bench, settling down next to him. “Going all Jackie Chan on their asses,”

Keith looked down to his hands, still questioning himself as to why he had done something like that.

“But you gotta be careful,” he continued, “We can’t have anything happen to you before we get you to your mother,”

Right…his mother. The princess…

Keith’s gaze ran to Lance, who had tilted his head to rest against Hunk’s large shoulder. His cheek was a bubble of pink and red, if he weren’t Altean, it would have slowly been turning blue and purple like a bruise. Thankfully his quickened healing would deal with that mark within the hour.

Keith could have seriously hurt someone today. The bile like feeling still hadn’t gone away, but at least now they were all safe.

What was it about Lance that made Keith lose all control?

 

~~

 

The huge Galran, Sendak pushed the bathroom doors open to the high end restaurant. He had waited for Baujal to come into the bathroom, see the three men and have them escorted out of the restaurant, before he made his way out of the bathroom itself.

He had come with the intention to speak to Baujal about their settlement here in the city. King Zarkon was intending to take over the rest of the cities, using his standing as King of the Holy City Altea. He had already taken over Kerberos and the other smaller cities surrounding the boundaries of Altea, but now his reach had gotten as far as the further cities. He had been in search for the princess and that god damn guard of hers. But so far, he hadn’t found them.

Sendak had been intrigued by the four men as they entered the high end restaurant. They looked to be the complete opposite of the other patrons of the restaurant, and they had caught his eye almost immediately. Yet the odd looking Taujeerian had welcomed them with open arms and sat them down.

The small one with the black hair had caught his interest. He seemed to be the most flustered out of them all. He hadn’t expected to witness the man turn into a Galran, he hadn’t seen him, but he had heard the familiar click of claws, the harsh breathing, the scent of Galran, and the hissing.

He had wished he could follow them, but he’d find the half breed. He was sure of it. But first, he needed to get back to his king, and inform him of what had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuun.  
> Well, now we're getting somewhere.


	5. Expedition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm...its been a while.

Sendak rushed through the darkened hallways of the once beautiful castle of Altea. The hallways were just as narrow and winding; however instead of being a stark white, they were painted black and purple. Proud in their Galran colours. Even the lion statues outside had been destroyed to make for a large statue of the king himself.

He nodded to the many Galran’s on their duties as he made his way to the throne room. The doors stood tall, hulking and intimidating. But he was used to the statue eyes staring back at him.

Pushing the heavy door open, he saw his king sitting at the blackened throne, listening to one of the many sentries that surrounded him; tell him their updates for the day. Once Zarkon saw Sendak, however, he motioned the sentry away, flicking his clawed hand at the mechanical man. The sentry bristled, mid speech, but he bowed down, holding a hand to his chest and stepped back, his metal feet thudding against the tiled floors.

“ _Vrepit sa_ ,” Sendak said, holding a fist to his chest and bowing low. “I bring news, your majesty,”

“Speak, Sendak.” Zarkon said monotonously, he flicked his claw beside him. A pretty, fair skinned woman stumbled forward suddenly, holding a heavy tray filled with all kinds of fruit from all over the cities. She bowed her head low as Zarkon reached for a pile of juicy looking berries. He pricked his claws into them, smirking as the juice fell onto his fingers.

Sendak’s yellow eyes watched the fair skinned woman with interest. She was trembling in fear, her arms, which had probably been holding the tray up high since she had started work that morning, were shivering in protest. She was dressed in nothing but a dark cloth that barely covered anything, and there were bruises all over her skin.

But he knew never to say anything. His words may only serve to hurt her more.

“I was in Taujeer, as you had advised,” Sendak instead continued, the quicker he got through this, the quicker Zarkon would let her go back to the corner and rest. “And I had come across another Galran,”

“Impossible,” Zarkon stated suddenly, flicking the pit of his fruit at the woman. She flinched as it hit her cheek, but stood still, her head still bowed low. “I had only sent  _you_  to Taujeer; no other Galran dares disobey my orders,”

Sendak narrowed his gaze, his telemetry had never been wrong; his king obviously did not trust him. Zarkon had grown hateful through his time on the throne. “I think it was the half breed,”

Zarkon straightened up on the throne suddenly, pushing the woman to the side. She fell to the ground with a thud, the fruit spilling everywhere. Without a word, she quickly picked them up and rushed back to her place in the back of the throne, still holding the tray of mismatched and bruised fruit up high in the air.

“Are you sure?” Zarkon asked, his claws digging into the wood of the throne. “It is your head if you are mistaken,”

“I am certain,” Sendak replied, his gaze darting once to the woman. “I had not seen him turn; however I know what he and his companions look like.”

“He must be looking for his dear mother.” Zarkon said, his claws breaking through the wood of the throne, splintering it. “They plan to overthrow me,”

Sendak nodded. “They’ll be heading to Arus, to meet the consort,”

Zarkon suddenly stood up, motioning for one of the Galran’s standing in the corner of the room forward. The Galran rushed to him, standing straight, holding a hand to his fist.

“Get my best sentries ready,” He said to the soldier. “Intercept them and kill the half breed,”

 

~~

 

The large steam train trailed quickly along the countryside. The cabins were filled with travellers who were milling back and forth through the train cars, enjoying the train and its amenities. In one cabin at the very last train car were the four. Pidge had taken to looking out of the window her invention opened like a weird biotechnological contraption in her lap. Keith was sitting next to her, listening intently to Hunk as he told them about what was to be expected once they got off the train in the next hour or so. Lance was still out cold, though most likely just napping now. He was lying down against the soft plush of the train bench, a blanket draped over his waist, legs drawn up to his chest, his mouth open and cute little snores releasing from it.

God damn it, he was  _cute_.

“Arus is beautiful,” Hunk continued, gesturing his hands wildly as he told Keith and Pidge all about the beauty of the city. It was one of the Holy cities alongside Altea. Almost all of the Altean's had fled there once Altea had been overtaken. But from what Hunk was saying, it seemed Arus was no longer the glittering holy city it had once been, instead it sounded more like a glittering city where gambling and making money was the way to go.

They were on their way to meet Coran, the gorgeous man. He was the only Altean who knew the current whereabouts of the Princess. It was through him that they were going to get to the princess, and Keith would find out if she could help him find his real mother.

Hunk smiled, looking out of the window and to the whitening countryside. The city they were going to was up in the mountains, but they had to get through snow-capped mountains and blustery country scape to get to it. Snow was steadily falling outside, creating a lovely scene.

“And once we convince Coran,” Hunk continued, following Keith's gaze to the scenery outside. “We’ll be off to meet the princess, and you'll finally be reunited with your mother,”

“Wait…” Keith paused, his eyes widened. He couldn't have heard that correctly. “No one said anything about  _convincing_  Coran, I can't do that!”

“You’ll be fine,” Hunk said dismissively, holding his hands out in a placating manner. He motioned to Pidge, who was fiddling with whatever contraption was on her lap. “And that’s why we have Pidge here; her contraption will work in our favour.”

Pidge looked up to her name being called and smirked. “Sure.”

But Keith was anxious now. It was one thing pretending to be some long lost prince, he had expected to just meet the princess, and when she found out Keith wasn’t her son, they’d apologise. Keith would then explain his life, about how he didn’t remember his past but was looking for his parents. And hopefully,  _hopefully,_ she’d help him.

But having to convince someone, to prove he was someone he wasn’t. It frightened him. He was definitely not going to get passed this Coran character. There was no way he could pretend to be a prince. He was just Keith.

And whatever invention Pidge was coming up with was not going to help him. He was sure of it.

“Why don’t you get some rest, your majesty,” Hunk said, reaching up on the overhead compartments and pulling out another blanket, similar to the one covering Lance. He gave it to Keith. “We’ll get you something to eat,”

Pidge nodded, getting up and stretching herself out. They had been sitting in the same spot for just over an hour now, so it was best for them to stretch their legs. But Keith could do with a nap. The day had piled up and he needed some time to hash it all out.

Hunk seemed so confident that this plan would work.  _Everyone_ did. Looking down at Lance, Keith couldn’t help but think about how the Altean was damn well sure that Keith was the lost prince.

And Keith wanted to believe it, he really did. But his Galran side made him reassess every single thing about this whole adventure. Sure he had his own ulterior motives, his own reasons for doing what he was doing. Finding his parents had always been a dream of his. When he was younger, he wondered if it was his mother or father that was the Galran, but now, he didn’t care who or what they were. He just wanted them.

But he knew wasn’t the prince. And pretending to act like one in front of the consort was going to go south very quickly. They were going to crash and burn, probably get arrested for impersonating a royal. They’d take one look at Keith, see his Galran side, and he’d be sent to jail straight away. He had no way out of it any more.

He  _could_ back away from the deal. But what would be the point of that? They’d be back to square one. And Keith would still be the amnesiac orphan child without a hope in the world.

Keith  _really_ didn’t want that.

So he stayed.

He watched Hunk take Pidge’s arm and lead her out of the compartment, most likely finding a way to the catering cabin. Hunk was many good things, that was for sure, but his hunger always won out in these kinds of situations. Keith wondered if he used food as a source to quell his anxiety and nervousness. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. Hunk was just too  _nice,_ and calm all the time.

Keith nodded to them, and laid his head on the plush train bench, he was really tired. The bench barely held his height, but he curled in on himself, lying to the side. Pulling the scratchy blankets over his body he stared at the sleeping Lance opposite him.

There was something about Lance. Something that Keith was infatuated with. It was like something was there…it was instant. More so than he was used to feeling. It was an impossible thing, falling for a man – a con man no less – in such a short amount of time. But what else could it be? Keith’s heart beat madly whenever Lance was near, his hands got clammy, and his breath caught in his throat whenever Lance so much as looked at him, and when he smiled – usually it was cocky, but when he had those  _actual_ smiles.

_God_ , Keith was a goner.

He took a moment to look at the man, and really take him in. From his caramel skin, his  _pretty_ eyes that shone like the clearest oceans, those long lashes that kissed the apple of his cheeks and those Altean markings he had kept hidden under concealers and makeup, his straight nose, strong jaw and those pouting lips, so full and plush. Keith wondered what they’d feel like.

Keith’s mind supplied him with thoughts he knew he should probably not be thinking about, as they did on many occasions. He had to force his fangs to recede back too many times to count whenever he got a look at the Altean’s lean body, his obscenely long legs that probably led all the way to heaven. Keith knew his eyes yellowed out whenever they were close. He was glad Lance was either too stupid to notice, or too nice to say anything.

No one had ever made him feel like this. And to think…it was an Altean con man!

He forced his eyes closed, knowing if he kept them open, he’d just stare at Lance all the more. He had already spent a majority of their time on the train taking the man in detail. From his furrowing, yet perfectly style eyebrows, to the way he moved his hands when he spoke.

Keith turned to look up at the mesh overhead compartment, forcing his eyes to detail the bags he could see through the metal mesh. When that proved futile, because they just reminded him of why he was here, which then reminded him of  _Lance,_ and then he’d be full circle. He instead looked out to the blizzard like snow falling outside as the train chugged along.

The skies were a brilliant white as the snow fell; the thick clouds were hidden under a purplish grey horizon. Everything seemed so silent, so wondrous. He had never seen snow – not that he could remember. Living in a desert city like Balmera for the past fifteen years, he had gotten used to the heat and the sand that was the land itself.

This was amazing.

Watching the snow streak across the window, he felt his eyes getting heavier and heavier and soon he found himself falling into a deep sleep.

 

~~

 

Prorok, the large, muscular Galran commander shivered as the snow blew in a harsh circle around him and his sentries. He stood at the very edge of a large cliff, overlooking a shallow valley, and down to the train tracks below. The tracks themselves were slowly piling up with snow, making the train he was supposed to intercept late.

He hated when things were late, and he hated the snow.

Pinning his cat like ears back to his purple hair, he straightened his hood over his head, covering the bottom half of his face with a thick scarf. The sentries behind him were all mechanical, they only took orders, and none of them felt the cold.

And Prorok hated that too.

“That half breed better be on this train.” He grumbled to himself. He held binoculars up to his eyes, peering out into the distance, following the tracks in hopes for the train to make its way to the valley.

It would be an honour to kill that brat.

The train came to view in the distance, steam billowing obscenely from the tops, hiding the rest of the train from view. If it weren’t for the bright yellow light at the very front, shining and gleaming against the powder white of the snow, it would have been invisible.

He looked back to his army, a small group of ten sentries all stood straight, ready for his command. He motioned for two forward. Two of the sentries stepped to the edge alongside him, and dropped down onto the white tracks. The train driver noticed them, and honked his loud horn. The sentries held out their rifles and jumped to the side as the train pillaged through the snow.

Four more sentries dropped down onto the engine, straddling either side of the heated metal, startling the driver. The driver tried to honk the horn again, but the sentries vaulted over the engine, one spread itself out over the windshield, its grip fast against the metal, claws digging in to the frame. Two sentries swung their bodies in through the side windows, shattering them.

Prorok, and the remaining four sentries, jumped down on the very top of the conductors’ cabin. The metal roof caved in at their weight and Prorok broke through. He dusted off his clothes, shoving his hood from his head and smirked.

“We’ll be commandeering this train now,” he grinned, punching the driver in the face, knocking him out cold.

Prorok ordered two of the sentries to keep the train going. There was no need to alert the people inside of the sudden change of plans. It would only cause uproar, and that would not help him with his search.

Shrugging off his coat and scarf, he stepped out of the conductors’ cabin, passed the engines and straight to the first class compartment. He eyed the pretentious looking species that took over the cabins, each with their own little compartments, laughing, smiling, drinking their champagnes, and eating their overpriced foods.

He grimaced, knowing that there was no possibility a Galran, even a half breed, would be caught dead in these places, not if he was clever. They were a proud race, power and pride was everything to them. He was a high ranking commander in King Zarkon’s military force.

Vrepit sa.

Many travellers shivered in shock as he passed, they avoided his gaze, and meandered away from him. And that made Prorok smirk. He was a proud and mighty Galran, one to be feared by all species and races.

_They should fear him_.

He motioned for the sentries that followed to go ahead of him, checking in each and every cabin for the half breed. They made quick work, killing those who made too much noise or battled against them. Blood splattered all over the first class cabins.

He made his way slowly through the train, darting his gaze back and forth as the sentries moved with him. Their phasers beaming, knives and swords slashing and hacking at those who opposed.

He wasn’t in first class. That abomination was not going to bring attention to himself.

Prorok smirked, the game playing in his favour as he watched his army tear through the many, leaving a few.

“Clever half breed,”

 

~~

 

How was this possible?

This shouldn’t be possible!

Lance pushed the offensively scratchy blanket from his body and sat up on his makeshift bed. His gaze turned to the sleeping lost prince. For what else could he be?

If it weren’t for the whole ‘half Galran’ thing the prince had, Keith would be a spitting image. He had the same complexion, creamy white, his eyes were wide, olive shaped and that beautiful coal blue he remembered his prince having – however sometimes Lance noticed they’d sometimes flash in a greenish yellow colour.

He couldn’t wait to see Pidge’s contraption come to light. He was desperate to see what this fake prince, Keith, looked like as a Galran. Would he have the same cat-like ears, the same pale purple complexion, and those beautiful yellow eyes that were a tad blue underneath?

Lance would never forget those moments he shared with the prince, when the night grew short, the sun stayed out just that little bit longer. They would sneak out from the castle, hands gripped tightly together. They’d rush through the beautiful rose gardens, passed the overly complicated hedge maze until they reached meadow of wild flowers at the very corner of the castle walls. It was at a hill, so they would sit at the dip, facing away from the castle. They’d found a place all to themselves, hidden behind the hill.

At this place, they were just Lance and Keith. There was no to royalty here, nothing other than two people, laying back against the dewy soft grass, looking up to the beautiful stars as they winked to life.

They spoke about going up to the stars one day, exploring the vast beauty of the unknown. Lance was sure that in another life, they were up there, zooming through space in crafts and ships, exploring planets and helping the aliens.

They had an entire story planned, where they would pilot massive lion shaped space ships, zoom through the entire cosmos and explore everywhere. Together.

When the sun finally dipped down low, and the cool breeze made itself known, they would huddle close together, wrapping their arms around one another. Keith would be free here, free enough to transform into his true state. With the long ears, the thick tail and the purpling skin. He’d stare up and Lance would take in his beautiful yellowing eyes, with that blue tinge and feel his heart swell up with pride and care.

His prince trusted him.

He’d spend the time running his fingers through his prince’s hair, flattening out the longer length at the back, and stroking at the  _oh so soft_ cat like ears. He always tsked when he saw the tear in one of them. His prince didn’t remember how he got that, but though it had been stitched and closed, the scar still remained.

They’d spend the night staring up at the stars, telling each other stories of when they’d grow older, of when they’d be  _together_. Lance knew it would never happen, a prince and a kitchen boy. It was impossible. But every night, he’d be by his princes’ side, and he’d never want to leave.

Lance never wanted to move from that spot.

He looked at Keith right now, and he felt the same feelings erupt within him. The love, the care, the beauty of the man lying asleep before him, looking just like the prince did when they’d stayed on that cliff for too long and fallen asleep together.

Life was cruel.

Or was it giving Lance another chance? Another fortuitous opportunity to be with Keith? He could teach this man to be just like his prince, how to act like him, how to talk like him, all the memories he had of  _his Keith_. They’d have to if they were going to prove to Coran that this was the real prince.

He’d have Keith…sure it may not be  _his prince,_ but it’ll still be his Keith.

He got up from his seat, crawling to the floor. He made his way closer to Keith, reaching out to touch him,  _just one touch._ He tucked Keith’s hair back from his closed eyes, seeing the strands stubbornly fall back over the smooth forehead.  _Quiznak_ , his skin was so soft. And there was a unique scent about him.

Maybe if he leaned in a little closer?

The doors of the cabin were pulled open, startling Lance. Looking up, he saw Pidge at the entrance. She stood still at the entrance, her eyebrows raised. Lance darted his gaze away from her, and Keith. He slunk back into his seat opposite the sleeping prince, and cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged pink.

“Uh huh,” Pidge rolled her eyes but walked into the cabin and sat down in the space next to him. “You doing okay?”

Lance nodded, his fingers digging into the edge of the seat as he forced his embarrassment down.

She pulled out the contraption she had been working on and started fiddling with a few wires here and there. The scent of the atrocity she had bought in Taujeer had faded – thank God – but the contraption itself was pulsating, like a heartbeat, and it had metal wires and all sorts of disgusting looking things coming out of it.

“You should thank Keith when he wakes,” She said absentmindedly, sparks coming out of her screwdriver contraption.

Lance paused, his gaze turning to her.

“He saved you from Markov and his men,” She said, and then went on to explain just what happened – sans the whole ‘turning into a Galran’ part. “He knocked them out to protect you,”

“He did that?” Lance asked, eyes darting to the still sleeping Keith.

…maybe…

…maybe there was a chance for Lance.

Keith suddenly started moaning in his sleep, his body shivered and he made nonsensical words, his lips moving, yet not saying anything. His body quivered, arms wrapping around himself to protect him from whatever he was dreaming about. His breaths came out in gasps, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, sweat forming on his forehead.

He was having a horrid nightmare.

Pidge made her way to him immediately, but Lance was there first. He held a hand up to Keith’s face, stroking back his dampening hair, and muttered hushed words. He didn’t know whether it was a good idea to wake someone up when they were in such a deep sleep.

Pidge dug her fingers into his shoulder, forcing him back, but his larger body was no match for her smaller one. He stayed still, he didn’t want to leave Keith, not when his prince was like this.

His prince sometimes had nightmares like this. When they’d be alone in the hills, looking up at the stars, Keith would shiver in his dreams, eyes closed and he’d be crying out for his mother. For the princess. Lance always ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, soothing him with a lullaby.

He did the same now, murmuring the lullaby of long past, and he saw Keith visibly relax somewhat. He reached up into Lance’s touch, silently urging him to continue.

Lance was suddenly hit with nostalgia of a time long ago.

Keith’s body shook once again, and Lance noticed the sudden change in him. His skin was stained a slight purple, two large cat like ears grew under his palm, flicking up and pinning back in fear. His mouth opened slightly and two large fangs pressed against his bottom lip.

Lance stumbled back, Keith had just transformed into a Galran.

_Keith had just transformed into a Galran!_

Pidge took his arm and dragged him away, yet still Lance did not move from his spot. He was frozen still now, hand still reaching out, yet not in Keith’s hair anymore. His eyes were wide, shimmering, glazed over.

The doors opened once again and Hunk came in, breathing heavy and looking urgently into the compartment.

“Guys! We have a pro—“ he paused, looking at the sleeping Galran Keith, the shell shocked Lance and the worried Pidge. “Oh, dude, you got your invention to work,”

Oh right…Lance thought to himself. Pidge’s invention. This was what it was. This was  _not his Keith._

“Your contraption is very realistic…” Lance murmured, his gaze not leaving the Galran sleeping before them. Keith was still shivering through his nightmare, and Lance couldn’t help but subconsciously reach out for him.

He settled himself on the ground in front of Keith, running his fingers through the half-Galran’s hair, tweaking his ears like he used to. They felt so realistic.

“Th-thanks,” Pidge replied, hesitantly, shoving the invention she had left on the bench in her pocket.

“Guys, we have bigger things to worry about,” Hunk replied, closing the door behind him and drawing the blinds.

The train jostled then, and Lance’s ears picked up screaming and shouting coming from a few cabins down. There was a familiar sound of thudding of metal against metal. And he froze.

“They’re here.” Hunk said, breaking the silence that surrounded them. “We’ve got to leave,  _now._ ”

The train jostled once again as the sentries – for who else could be following them – came through the cabins. Thankfully they had chosen the ones right at the very back of the train. It had been an unconscious choice for Lance, but he was glad he had gone with his gut on that one.

He took a hold of Keith’s shoulders and shook him awake. Quite quickly, Keith’s skin turned back to the normal creamy white, his ears had flicked back into his hair, almost completely invisible. But his eyes were still slightly more yellow than usual.

“We’ve gotta go, your majesty,” He said, pulling Keith from his seat.

Sleepily, Keith followed, getting up and helping Pidge get their things from the overhead compartments. He slung his bag on his shoulders, not giving Lance the opportunity to take it from him.

Hunk peered out from the cabin doors, seeing the hallways completely empty. He slowly pulled the door open and stepped outside. Peering through the glass of the train car doors, he noticed black figures a few cars down. They were slowly making their way through the cabins. The screaming was getting louder too.

He ushered the others out, standing in the way, his large hulking body hiding them from view of whoever might be looking. Peering at the other cabins, he noticed they were alone here. The only ones in this train car – which may not have been coincidental. No one liked the last train car after all, it was usually left for larger luggage and baggage.

He took one last look back at the train cars, noticing the sentries coming closer. He saw a larger man at the very back, his skin purple and his eyes sharp. He didn’t recognise the Galran, but he knew he’d be trouble.

Lance stood at the very end of the cabin, jimmying open the train door at the very back of the car. It screeched open, Lance slid the small axe he had taken to open the door into the hook of his jeans.

He tugged on Keith’s arm, moving him so he stood at the edge with him. The wind was harsh, slicing through their faces and hair. Keith looked down to the tracks below the fast moving train, they were moving in a blur. The snow falling faster and harder, making it almost impossible to see in the distance.

“We gotta jump,” Lance yelled, his voice carrying through the wind. He took a tight hold of Keith’s arm.

Keith’s fingers gripped the edge of the train door, his heart beating madly. He didn’t want to jump, what if they didn’t land properly? What if they got hurt, or worse?

“They’re getting closer,” Hunk said from behind them. He had Pidge in his arm, and their bags on his back.

It was now or never.

Keith took hold of Lance’s hand, forcing his nerves down. He could do this. They needed to do this. If the Galran’s found him…found  _them._ Who knew what they would do.

Lance looked into his eyes, nodding once and wrapped his larger body around Keith’s, hiding his face in his warm chest.

And they jumped.


	6. Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> Thank you for all of your wonderful comments and kudos! 
> 
> Sorry this is a little shorter than usual. But I hope you like it!
> 
> FYI, the story Lance tells is from the original Voltron (but as its considered the "past" it works in this favour)

Cold. It was so cold.

The snow flurried everywhere around them, falling over their fallen bodies, covering them and hiding them from the world. If anyone looked, all they would see was three large lumps in the perfect white blizzard.

Lance’s entire body ached, all the way to the tangled of his short hair, having taken the brunt of the fall may not have been the best thing for him. He wasn’t a young teenager anymore. But it was better him than Keith. He hadn’t hesitated, when he saw the large hulking Galran commander walking through the train, he took Keith in his arms, wrapped his body around the smaller man and jumped.

He tightened his arms around the precious body he was protecting, feeling the smaller body shiver under the cold. The projection invention Pidge had created must have activated on him again, because he had two large purple ears that were pinned down to his dark hair. And if Lance could see, he’d be sure the smaller man had purple skin.

He shivered, shaking the snow from his hair face. Looking around, he saw another larger lump in the snow popping up, and a familiar yellow bandana slowly filling up with snow. But no sign of Hunk, or Pidge for that matter.

“Hunk!” Lance yelled out, his voice was muffled by the snow storm that seemed to funnel around them. He didn’t hear any reply, so he yelled out again.

Keith shivered, and Lance brushed off all of the snow on his body. Sure enough his skin was tinged a little more purple than usual, not completely Galran, but if you looked long enough, you knew it wasn’t normal for someone of his complexion to look so…unnatural.

This reminded him of those nights in the hillside, looking up at the stars, his prince in his arms as they slept, whiling away the night, safe and sound in the palace walls. No one to force them apart.

Lance shook his head, this was _Keith._ And they were not at the palace right now. They had to get out of here and find the others. Galran’s had been after them, Lance was sure of it. He didn’t know why, but he had suspected those purple assholes wanting to stop any advancement to the Princess.

Maybe they were trying to find them so they could give whatever Galran came to them the location of the Kings Consort. If they got to Coran, they could torture the Altean and force him to tell them where the Princess was. She was the last living Altean Royalty – other than the lost prince. She would easily be able to usurp the current King and take back her throne.

No one ever believed him and Hunk when they told the Altean’s about the Galran King. He knew the Altean’s had second thoughts about Zarkon. After all, Altean’s and Galran’s had a bad history. But if they really were listening to what news forced on them, then they all believed there had been a peace treaty between the previous King Alfor and the current King Zarkon. And the only reason Zarkon had taken over the throne was so that the Princess could search for her lost son.

He’d take her throne in the princess’s wake.

It was all complete bullshit. Lance knew the truth. The real story about the coronation night. But he couldn’t do this on his own. He needed to find the princess and terminator Shiro. They’d take the throne back and Altea would rightfully be the Holy city once again.

But fifteen whole years had passed, the princess was in hiding and there had been no sign of the lost prince. He couldn’t imagine what the princess was going through. If he was able to help her, if he was able to make her smile even just for a moment, then he knew she’d be ready to take back what was rightfully hers to begin with.

He had been forced out of his home by those purple assholes. So he was more than willing to help the princess and the lost prince any way he could.

He held Keith closer to his body, peering up to try and find some kind of shelter, anything. It was storming so much even his eyelashes were gathering snow. He couldn’t find Hunk or Pidge anywhere. The blizzard only grew fiercer around them, so much that Lance couldn’t even hear his own voice over its howling. He tried to call for the others, but still no reply.

He turned his head away from the storm, his heart beating madly in his chest. Keith was cold, _too cold,_ his grip was tight, his lips were blue from the bitter cold. Lance pushed him back and covered his entire body in hopes to keep him warm.

Taking a once over of the man in his arms, he looked down Keith’s body, his arms were cradled to his chest, gripping tight at Lance’s shirt, even in his unconscious state. His legs were hidden under the snow, so Lance leaned down and brushed the cold white powder from his legs. That’s when he saw a small splatter of blood by his leg and grimaced. _How_ _had Keith gotten hurt?_

Lance berated himself, he had tried so hard to keep his Keith safe, and yet in doing so, he had hurt him. This was going to be much more difficult than he previously anticipated. He leaned down to the unconscious man.

“Keith,” He said quietly, leaning in as close as he allowed himself. He saw those purple cat like eats prop up on Keith’s head, but other than that he didn’t stir.

Lance had to hand it to Pidge, she really knew how to capture the true essence if Galrans. Keith’s ears almost look completely real. All the way down to the…little…scar…

Lance’s chest suddenly felt like a steel drum, his heart was beating so madly against his ribcage. He sucked in a frozen breath and blinked, rubbing his eyes and blinking again.

No…that can’t be right. His mind was playing tricks with him. There was _no way_ that this Keith had the same scar as the prince had. But peering at the falling ears, he saw the similar scar stretching across the top of his ear all the way down to the base, it had healed over and was barely noticeable. But Lance had spent hours and hours playing with the princes ears. It may have been fifteen years, but he still knew the exact shape, the exact feel.

He wracked his brain for an answer. Maybe Hunk had told Pidge about Keith being authentic and told her about the scar on his ear. That had to be it.

Sucking in a breath, she shook Keith awake, calling his name one more time. Keith groaned, his ears flicking back up. There was movement behind him, and Lance spied a tail. _Oh…_ he smiled at the memories of the fun he and the prince had had with that tail.

Lance searched for their bags, but he couldn’t see anything under the snow. He wished Hunk had them, because they couldn’t afford to lose anything, not now, not while they were on the run from wild Galran’s.

He instead tugged on the yellow bandana that was slowly being buried under the snow. He wrapped it around his hand, glad it was long and thick. He brushed off the snow that was piling over them both and slowly, ever so carefully, unlaced and took off Keith’s shoe. He peered up at the blood caking Keith’s jeans and grimaced. He laced the shoe to his belt loop, and peeled back the denim. The injury didn’t look fatal, but it was really deep. It was as if something had lodged itself into his leg and dragged itself up before stabbing out.

It must have hurt. No wonder Keith had been unconscious.

The blood was sluggishly flooding out from the small wound, Lance wished it had congealed under the frozen weather, but unfortunately he wasn’t that lucky. Knowing they would most likely need some kind of medical attention to stop it from getting infected, but also knowing that he didn’t have anything but freshly falling snow and a dirty bandana in his person. He instead took a handful of the fresh snow and placed a ball of it onto the wound, praying the pure water and salt would help to heal the wound.

Keith hissed, his tail making itself known as it slashed through the snow, making an arch all the way up to its point, before thudding back down onto the snow. But Keith still lay unconscious. Lance worked quickly, drying the wound with the hem of his shirt and quickly wrapping the long strip of bandana around the wound. He wrapped it round and round the ankle, all the way up to his knee, making sure it was tight enough.

Keith moaned his name, his eyes blearing open. They were a pretty coal blue, and that surprised Lance, he had expected Keith’s eyes to be yellow, just like the rest of him looked.

“Lance?”

“I’m right here, my prince,” Lance shook his head at that, he could reminisce all he wanted but this man was _not_ his prince. “Are you alright? Can you get up?”

“So tired…want sleep,” Keith said, his voice laden with sleep. He shivered, his tail wrapping around his waist, arms following and tightening around Lance’s waist, trying to keep the warmth between them.

“I know,” Lance murmured, tugging Keith’s clothes tighter over his body, trying to cover every exposed inch of him. He wished he had one of their bags with him, at least that way he could rummage through and find something warmer to cover Keith with.

“I need you to help me,” Lance said, raising up and shaking away the snow that was slowly piling up over their chilled bodies. God, he felt chilled to the bone. He stood up, wincing as his body ached, but he forced that away. The pain would go away soon. Stretching out, he rolled his shoulders and turned to the fake half Galran, who was still lying on his side, knees drawn up to his chest.

He guessed since Keith worked in Balmera, he wasn’t used to this kind of weather. Altea was also pretty warm too. But for the past fifteen years, Lance and Hunk had been scrounging and living in places where heating was a luxury, and pilling blankets on top of each other had been the norm.

Such a dainty little fake half Galran his Keith was.

“Come along, your majesty,” Lance said, shrugging his coat off and kneeling down one knee to the ground, with his back to Keith. He held his arms to his sides, ready to lift Keith up.

Keith shivered, rolling his eyes. But he forced himself up from the cold snow bed and into the warmth of Lance’s back. Lance smirked, wrapping his coat around them both, hiding Keith’s frozen face from the torrid snow. The heat of Keith on his back, the way his arms and thighs squeezed Lance’s body, his warm breath ruffling Lance’s hair and blazing along his skin and his tail, which had taken to wrapping around Lance’s thigh. It was enough to keep him warm – and that was all he was going to say about their current predicament.

 _Don’t focus on it…don’t even think it…it’ll be much harder to trudge through this god awful weather with_ those _kinds of thoughts swirling around._

Keith moaned, hiding his face in the curve of Lance’s neck, his lips pressing against the skin.

“Don’t call me that,” Keith murmured, his hot breath washing over Lance’s neck, causing goose bumps to appear. He wrapping his arms around Lance’s shoulders as the tall Altean heaved him up.

Nope, he was _not_ going to think about it…not at all.

Instead, he focused on his feet, trudging through the snow, and calling out for the others.

 

~~

 

Sendak stood in the throne room, rolling his eyes as he watched Prorok explain what had happened. Or what he had thought had happened.

Prorok stood with his hands to his chest, his other hand gesturing wildly. “I had scoured the entire train, went through every single passenger, I assure you there was no half breed on that train,”

Zarkon nodded, calling one of the sentries to him. He held a hand to the sentries head, sifting through in the data it had gathered while on the train.

“Maybe Sendak was wrong,” Prorok added.

Sendak growled, he had _not_ been wrong. He was going to speak his mind, but Zarkon held his hand up. He pushed the sentry away and stood up.

“You acted like an imbecilic Galran cub,” Zarkon growled, reaching his hand out for Prorak. The Galran obeyed, coming closer until he stood directly in front of his king. He held his hand. Zarkon held a hand to his head and squeezed it tight. “Your stupidity most likely caused the half breed to run.”

Prorok whined as Zarkon’s grip tightened, claws gripping into his hair. But he didn’t move, not that he could. The pain radiating in his head made him bite his lip until blood poured out, but it did nothing against the _pain._

“I will look for him,” Sendak interrupted, knowing that if he didn’t, Prorok would most likely have been killed there and then. Not that he’d care. That guy was a narcissistic bastard.

Zarkon pushed Prorok away, smirking in satisfaction as the massive man fell to the ground with a loud smack. He held a hand up to Sendak, beckoning him over the same way he had for Prorok. Sendak sucked in a breath and made his way over to his king.

Zarkon pressed his hand to Sendak’s head, holding it in place. “You will get him for me,”

Sendak nodded, holding his fist to his chest. “ _Vrepit sa,_ ”

 

~~

 

“So Altea was founded by King Golion and his wife, in Jarre.” Lance said through chattering teeth, he tightened his grip on the man on his back. Keith had been in and out of consciousness since they started this long trek, so Lance opted to talking and talking and talking, hoping Keith was listening and would stay awake.

He couldn’t remember what the medical side of hypothermia was, and how to prevent it. But he had seen enough movies and television shows to know that he had to keep the other awake and warm.

So far so good.

“It was on the edges of the Dark Nebula kingdom, which is part of the county of Kerberos,” Lance continued. He still hadn’t found a sign of Hunk or Pidge, but he had hope. He knew they would find them eventually. If he knew Hunk, he knew the man would have found a cave or a cabin somewhere and hid there. He’d start a fire and the smoke would beckon Lance to him.

“He had five warriors, all of different colours. He called them his Lions,” Lance chuckled, “It was supposed to go with his name, Go _lion,_ ”

Keith snorted, his mouth frozen and pressed into the curve of his neck, it was moving, as if Keith was trying to reply to him, yet so words were coming out. Lance didn’t mind, he’d talk for the both of them.

“The warriors landed in Altea, and were discovered by the government,” Lance paused, remembering the stories he had heard from the workers in the castle. “Yeah, they had a government, can you imagine?”

“They were treated like royalty, you know.” Lance straightened Keith on his back, taking one look at him and seeing his eyes were bleary, half lidded, but he was still awake. Good. “They had their own homes in the castle, like a lions’ _lair,_ and private transport and everything.”

“But that’s when everything went to hell,” Lance shifted to the side, he could spy something that looked like a puff of smoke, or that could be a cloud or just a pile of snow. Damn it, but it was better to see and come to a conclusion. “The Galran Empire attacked, and thwarted the Lion Warriors, using magic to put them to sleep and locking them far away from one another. With no one to protect the kingdom, King Raimon – who was a badass, might I add – was executed, and his family and the rest of the Altean’s were taken as slaves,”

He felt Keith’s arms wrap around his neck, it was a sign of comfort, or sympathy. He sucked in a breath and continued the story of the old.

“But then Princess Fala his escaped with the Royal Guard Raible,” He smirked, he remembered being so excited about the turnabout of the empire after the Galran’s had reigned over it for almost a year. “Fifteen years later, she found the Lion warriors, and together they destroyed the Galran empire.”

He stood tall and proud as he finished his story, the history of Altea was something that was etched in each and every Altean. It was their story, their kingdom. As the years passed, and when King Alfor had taken the throne, he had erected the five lion statues in the entrance of the castle to remind the Altean’s that there were five warriors who would keep them safe.

The Lion Warriors.

When he had first gotten away from the Galran’s that had invaded the castle, he had hoped to call upon the warriors, to find them, wherever they were, and try to figure out a way to thwart the Galran empire, to destroy every last Galran until there was no bad purple asshole left. He wanted to kill Zarkon for murdering King Alfor, _his king. Keith’s grandfather._

But he had been unsuccessful. He hadn’t known where to start looking, or if the stories he had heard as a child were even true. But he believed that one day, the Lion Warriors would come.

However, as time passed, he got older and more and more focused of just trying to survive. The story of the Lion Warriors was just that, _a story._ And instead, he worked and conned his way to the top.

It was still a nice thought though.

“Come on Keith,” He grumbled, holding onto Keith and pulling the shivering man tighter into his arms, hunching over in hopes to cover him from the falling snow. “Don’t do this to me,”

Chuffing a breath, he peered through the blizzard and he swore he saw a small square of buttery yellow light flickering in the distance. It was too perfect a shape to be anything other than a window to a cabin. But the snow had covered it so much, it was difficult to tell.

Maybe Lance was so out of it that he was having a cold induced mirage. Did those even happen?

Who cares? He tightened his grip around Keith’s thighs, making sure his coat still held true to keep them both warm around the smaller man on his back, and trudged through the rest of the path to the cabin hidden under the snow.

As he got closer, the cabin became clearer and clearer, and through the window he could see movement inside. Hoping and wishing it was his comrades, he stood in front of what could only be the front door, and knocked on it. A few moments later, the door opened and they were bathed in warmth, followed by a pair of strong and familiar arms.

“Lance!” Hunk cried, pulling them into the cabin. He closed the door behind them and ushered them both closer to the warmth of the large fire in the hearth. "What happened to his majesty?"

The cabin was small, just a single room in the middle of nowhere. A large fireplace took over one entire wall, a small single bed stood near it, thick blankets and a comfy looking pillow on its top. There was a kitchenette that was basically just a sink and a stove with two burners with little work space. There was a door which most likely led to the bathroom, and a two seat dining table just next to it.

It was a safe house for those lost in the storm.

Lance, still holding onto Keith, listened intently to the wind howling outside. The house seemed to be holding well in the storm. Pidge, who had been sitting in front of the fire had gotten up and pushed the covers from the bed. Lance knelt down and lay Keith onto the cold bed. Keith was still buried in his jacket, which was a little big on him. Thankfully it covered his arms and fell to his knees. He had huddled into it, pressing the sleeves to his nose and breathing Lance's scent in.

Lance’s cheeks burst a faint red, but she shook his head at the thoughts running through his mind. Though he couldn’t help but think the faux-prince was adorable.

“He’s hurt and bleeding,” Lance said, pulling the duvet over Keith’s shuddering frame and making sure he was warm. "I did what I could...but I don't know..."

Hunk nodded, moving briskly to the doors leading to the bathroom. He came back a few moments later, shivering a little, but with a medikit in his hands. Pulling the latch open, he handed Lance an antiseptic ointment and a few bandages.

Lance got to work almost immediately. He reached into the duvet, pulling Keith’s injured leg from under the covers and his jacket.

“My bandana!” Hunk said with a smile. Lance nodded, unwrapping the makeshift yellow bandage from Keith’s leg and handing the bloody material to Hunk. The larger man took it and wrinkled his nose. But he shoved it into his pocket anyway.

Lance was careful when he applied the ointment on the injury, it had stopped bleeding, thankfully, and he wrapped it tight with the bandages. Once he was done, he tugged at Keith’s jean leg and carefully covered his leg with the duvet.

“Where are we?” He asked, turning to the others in the room.

Pidge had settled back on her seat in front of the fireplace, watching from afar. Her smaller build was nowhere near used to such dire temperatures. Lance sat down next to her, his body shuddering at the warmth stinging his skin. He pushed the aches away and settled to get his temperature back to normal.

“It’s too hard to tell,” Pidge answered, her shaky fingers fiddling with a small contraption, similar to the one she had been working on before…or was it the same one. Lance shook his head, he was getting drowsy.

“Let’s rest here,” Hunk replied, giving Lance a blanket from one of the cupboards. He handed one to Pidge as well, to add to her already thick collection, and one for himself. “We’ll leave once the storm settles.”

Lance looked back to where Keith lay, he was shuddering and shivering and it was making it damn well impossible to just let him lie like that. He scooted along the warming wooden ground until his fingers pressed against the plush of a thick carpet. Settling on that, he looked up to Keith, reaching in through the duvet until he found Keith’s hand. He laced their fingers together and lay on the ground by him.

Keith’s fidgeting ceased almost immediately, and Lance smiled. At least one of them should rest properly tonight.

 

~~

 

Keith ran through the oily black forest once again. The dawn was rising behind him, but he couldn’t stop. He needed to run, but he was tiring out. He pushed away the oily branches and leaves, many slapping and snagging in his skin, piercing his flesh. His footfalls thudding hard and heavy on the greasy mulch of the ground. His skin burned, the white shedding and peeling horrifically, growing fur on his arms and legs. He could feel the skin of his face melting in large drops, squelching to the ground with sickening splats that reverberated the otherwise quiet that surrounded him.

His entire body ached, and suddenly he was freezing. His new, purple skin, bubbled with goose bumps, shivering and shaking as his fingers froze over, his hands ceasing to move, his legs felt heavier and heavier as if there were hundreds of hands holding him down, pulling him back.

He slipped, stumbling to the ground, hitting his body hard onto what felt like concrete. His head shook, his body ached, and he couldn’t breathe. Slippery, slimy, eel like vines erupted from the ground around him, wrapping over his body, keeping him pinned to the ground. He scrabbled, fingers clawing at the dirt and dried mulch, trying to keep on going – just keep on going!

He could hear heavy footfalls, that familiar sound of metal hitting the earth. Each thud matched his rabbiting heartbeat. Soldiers, sentries, thousands of them. He could feel the heat of their raised guns.

And he couldn’t move.

_“Keith!”_

He heard that familiar female voice screaming his name. The anguish, the sheer pain in her voice made tears prick the corner of his eyes. He reached a hand out ahead of him, but _he couldn’t move._

Keith tried to scream, tried to yell, anything, but the vines wrapped around his throat, thorns sticking into his flesh and silencing him.

He needed to get away!

_“Run…my baby…”_

Run, run, run. Don’t ever stop. Don’t ever give up.

But what could he do? He tried to move, but the vines only tightened around his arms and legs, swirling and shivering around his body until he could do nothing but stay still. The thorns ripped into his skin, sticking and stabbing him.

“Keith…hey, you okay?”

_What? Lance…?_

Keith closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of the Altean. The darkness of the vines covered his face, yanking at his hair and pushing his head into the dirt. He coughed as the oily, sickly mud slid into his mouth, but he still listened.

“He’s burning up…”

Lance… _Lance!_

The vines pushed him down into the ground and suddenly he felt himself falling, falling, falling through darkness. He flailed his arms and legs, hoping to grab some purchase to anything, but there was nothing around him. Just the cold darkness.

He heard the sound of a door sliding and screeching closed. The thud resonated in his mind, and suddenly he found himself draped over the shoulders of a large man. The arms around him, holding him steady, didn’t feel like something he should fear, they felt like home. But he didn’t pay attention to that man, because before him, he saw Lance. The Altean looked younger, his skin had a little more colour, and his clothing looked almost regal in their uniformity.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Lance said, but his eyes were downcast and his mouth was in a frown, and Keith knew…he _knew_ Lance was lying.

“Promise!” Keith yelled, pounding at the large man holding onto him, struggling to get away from his hold. But the hand around his knees and back were just too strong. They kept him pinned down, kept him from moving, much as the vines had. “Promise me, Lance!”

Lance looked up, his eyes shining with tears. “Wild Galran’s couldn’t keep me away,”

And then the man holding him moved, walking away from Lance. Walking away from the light. He pounded his fists on the man’s back, pleading with him to go back, they can’t leave Lance. He had _promised._

But looking back up, he couldn’t see Lance anymore. In fact, he couldn’t see anything. Everything had fallen into darkness once again. And Keith suddenly found he couldn’t breathe, sweat dripped on his skin, soaking his clothes. His heart rabbited a beat and his skin burned, still a brilliantly dull purple.

“His fevers sky rocketed,” He could hear Lance’s sweet voice over him and he dropped to the ground, too tired of it all.

_Momma…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuuunn!  
> Is Keith remembering more about his past?  
> Or am I just messing with you?


	7. Red Veil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> So its going a little quicker than expected, but hopefully we're getting closer to the end. I'm trying to finish my Destiel fic, so I will be spending more time writing that and this.  
> I will update this as much as possible, but life is slowly pilling up, and though I would adore to finish this with an amazing big bang, it doesn't look to be as quick as anticipated.
> 
> But we are getting somewhere.

Lance could not take it.

He watched, desperately clinging to Keith’s hand as the half Galran writhed and thrashed on the bed. He was huffing nonsensical words through his parted lips, sweat glistening his, now completely purple, and burning hot skin. His hair was matted to his forehead, long Galran cat ears swivelling this way and that. In his movement, he had thrown the covers from his body, but his grip was tight on Lance’s hand.

“His fever’s skyrocketed,” Lance turned to Hunk, seeing the larger man pull a clear liquid into a syringe in his hands.

“He needs a course of antibiotics,” Hunk replied, tapping the needle with a flick of his thumb. “I’d advise penicillin, but he could be allergic,”

Lance nodded, moving a little out of the way, his hand still grasping Keith’s tight, not wanting to go too far away from his faux-prince. He watched as Hunk took Keith’s purple skinned arm, sticking the needle in to the bend of his arm and pressing the stopper down until all of the liquid medication was inside Keith.

The Galran grimaced, hissing under his breath. His eyebrows furrowing at the sudden pinch, but other than that, not much had changed.

Lance watched, helplessly.

The sound of the snow falling outside was harsh, too loud for Lance’s ears. Or was that the blood rushing through his body, pulsing like crazy as he watched every single nuance of Keith’s face, watching every twitch of his nose, every twinge of his lips, every blink of his closed eyes.

His skin was still tinged that familiar purple, and Lance’s eyes flickered up to his long ears. He had seen the scar of the tear in Keith’s ear before, but he had to make sure. No one but him, Hunk, Princess Allura and Shiro knew of the scar. And unless Hunk had told Pidge of the scar, which he doubted, it meant Pidge either somehow knew about the prince being Galran – or enough to know he had a scar on his ear. 

“I think your transfiguration invention is broken,” Lance said, trying to break the sheer silence that surrounded them. He needed to say something. Otherwise he’d go mad with waiting for Keith to awaken.

“Right, yeah.” Pidge fidgeted behind him, moving from one foot to the other. “I can’t actually… _fix it_ …with Keith unconscious,”

Lance nodded, not caring that it didn’t make any real sense. After all, it was an invention, maybe it required Keith to think about it or feel something to turn into the purple furry cat-like creature. But that didn’t explain why he was like this _now_.

After a few long, antagonising minutes of the faux-prince writhing on the bed, Keith finally calmed down. His breathing evened out and his pulse fell to a respectable thud, thud, thud under Lance’s fingers. But his skin stayed slightly tinged purple.

Hunk slumped down on the ground next to them. “How’re we going to get him on the boat? He looks Galran,”

Lance groaned, exasperated. He looked out of the window to calm himself. This was his fault, if he hadn’t been adamant to take them to the restaurant in Taujeer, they wouldn’t have fallen to Markov’s wrath – however pointless that had been. What with the way the others said Keith had saved him. But if he hadn’t stopped there, then maybe they wouldn’t have gotten on that exact train, and had to jump off and get Keith _injured._

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Hunk said, having seen the turmoil Lance was putting himself through.

But there was nothing else he could do. He knew it was his fault. He was an idiot to put such precious cargo in so much pain. He reached for Keith, running his fingers soothingly over the back of his hand.

Pidge stood suddenly, her glasses glinting in the firelight. “I have an idea,”

 

~~

 

“This was your idea?”

Lance pushed the long sheer material from over his nose and mouth and sighed.

Looking to the long full length mirror in front of him he grimaced. He was currently wearing a long and intricately decorated dark grey shirt that fell to just below his knees, and a baggy pair of trousers that were cuffed to his ankles. A black scarf was wrapped around his head and neck, covering the bottom half of his face from the chill. His shoes were made from a thick material, with hard soles, and curled at the front.

“I think the sheikh look works for you,” Hunk stated, applying a thin line of kohl under Lance’s eyes, flicking them from the corner of his eyes until they peaked into a curl.

Lance’s Altean markings were hidden under a thick concealer and he wrinkled his nose at that. It was one thing to wear concealer to hide his marking enough for others not to recognise the royal blue on his cheeks – it made it easier to con others that way, no one suspected him to be an Altean who worked in the royals castle. But it was another to completely cover his heritage. He was proud to be Altean.

But right now, with the Galran sentries following them, they needed to get far and get there fast. Coran was in Arus, which was where the train had been heading, and most definitely where they would have reached by now, had they not jumped off. Taking another train would prove to be futile. The Galran’s knew where they were, and where they were heading – most likely. So they had to get away from easy and quick ways to Arus. They couldn’t use the obvious vehicles, like cars, trains or buses. Instead they were going to take the next available mode of transportation.

A boat.

No one used boats anymore, with the speedy trains and other land based vehicles, boats had become a thing on the past. They were primarily used as brothels in many occasions. It was easy to decipher a brother boat and a cargo boat. Brother boats were always so extravagantly decorated, dolled out with the latest and greatest sexual fantasies any one species could have. Only the seediest of people would venture onto those wooden monstrosities, either single or with their lovers. And they’d spend the days it took to get from one port to the other deep inside one another, loving one another as the boat rocked them to their release.

It wasn’t ideal, not for someone as precious as Keith, but it was inconspicuous. No Galran would dare set foot on a brothel boat, they were very strict and only mated with their own species. It explained why a half-Galran like the prince had been kicked out of his city and sought after by Galran sentries when they were younger.

Arus was by the coast, as was the current snow-ridden tundra city they had found themselves in. After a little distance of walking, following the snowy tracks until they reached the closest train station had proven to be much easier than the ordeal of trying to keep the fever-pitched Keith alive and awake long enough to take medication and actually try to get better.

It didn’t help that the snow piled over them so much that any attempt at keeping the fake prince warm was proving futile. However, they had found their bags and had warm clothing to cover the prince in. 

However, he hadn’t woken up fully enough for them to know what was wrong – and he was still a slight tinge of purple. His ears – which Lance would not look at, especially after he had seen the scar across one ear – were flattened to his hair, but they were clearly visible. And his tail was a still limb behind him, curled a little at its furred end, but still there. It was clear to see Keith was not purely…well not human.

Though Pidge had said she had something to remedy that. She had pushed the two out of the room they had sought to change in and had gotten to work.

Lance had no idea what that small maniacal woman had planned. When they had bought _his_ outfit – more like conned the clothes store owner into giving them four outfits for the price of two – she had gone into the women’s section and had come out with a few articles of clothing in a sheer red colour. He shrugged his shoulders and hadn’t thought anything of it, but now he was standing there, staring into Hunk’s hulking yellow cloth covered chest as the man applied kohl to the upper lid of his eyes, he was anxious to know her plan.

Purely because he was curious to know her ideas, he was in no way wondering just how magnificent that certain colour of dark red and pale white would look like on Keith’s smaller, firm body.

Nope. He wasn’t thinking that, at all.

He instead focused on what they were going to accomplish. They didn’t have a lot of time. The ship they needed to get on was only in port for a couple more hours, and they needed to get ready, and get in as soon as possible. It was going to be difficult. And if they were caught, they’d either be thrown off the boat – most likely walk the plank if the ship owners worked that way – or they’d be sent to jail for impersonation.

Neither option’s worked for any of them. They needed to get to Arus. Lance needed to meet Coran and find the princess and get Altea back. If they didn’t, then he’d never see his home again. He’d never see Altea be as prosperous as it once was. He'd never see the smile on his prince's face.

Keith would still be a Balmeran waiter, and not the prince Lance knew he was. Because, though he didn’t believe this Keith was _his_ Keith. He was going to teach him just how to act, what to say, and how to say it. Princess Allura and her terminator Royal Guard Shiro weren’t going to see the difference.

They _needed_ to get on that boat.

The doors to the other rooms opened and Pidge stepped out. She had opted to wearing a long dark green shirt with similar baggy trousers as both he and Hunk were wearing, however her hair was not covered by a cloth, and there were no appliques of any kind on her outfit. She looked rather plain under her thick rimmed, circular glasses.

It was a little off putting for Lance to be the only well-dressed one out of the three. But he was acting as a king, attending the brothel boat with his wife for their honeymoon. This way, none of the attendants, or sailors on the boat would tend to them, or interrupt them. They could go about the boat in peace -- provided Keith stayed covered.

“Your wife awaits, your lordship,” Pidge said, bowing low and motioning into the room behind her.

Lance didn’t care for the endearments. He was too eager to see what she had done with Keith. He pushed Hunk out of the way, knowing the man had finished his ‘work of art’. Usually, Lance would find the nearest mirrored surface and ogle at the beauty of Hunk’s artistic makeup on his face. But right now, he pushed that thought back, curtailing the mirror, he instead made his way through the door and into the small room on the others side.

Lance gasped.

Keith lay on the rough looking bed, still out cold. His chest was heaving up and down with each deep breath he took. He was indeed wearing the red clothes Pidge had gotten from the store. But he hadn’t expected Keith to look like this.

The shirt was a thick deep red material, but it barely covered anything. The shirt, if it could be called that, was simply a thick strip across Keith’s toned chest. It covered just enough to be considered decent, reaching down to a few inches above his navel. There were two thick straps on either side of his slender shoulders that fell out to sheer bell sleeves that covered his arms all the way down to his slightly purple tinged fingers. The cloth had swirling gold designs within it, that shimmered in the light. His toned stomach was showing, caving in slightly from the cool air as he breathed.

His pants were baggy, similar in look to the rest of theirs, but there was a sheer strip at the very top hem that ran all the way across his stomach, just below his navel, and had a bow tied to the side, like a sash. His feet were covered with the same material as Lance’s were, thick shoes with hard soles. However they were not curled over like Lance’s were. His feet looked dainty.

His face, however, was hidden under a thin red veil that ran across his nose and down to cover the rest of him. His eyes were closed, but they were the only noticeable thing on his pretty face. His eyes had similar thick kohl lines that peaked into curls. Under the veil, his cheeks were tinged pink and his lips were stained a deep red.

He looked… _beautiful._

Lying on the bed next to him was a thick, soft material, like a cloak, that would be strung over his shoulders to further hide him from others eyes, with a thick hood that would go over his head and cover his face from view.

“Well? What do you think?” Pidge asked, nudging Lance from his trance. “I tried to cover him as much as I could, but the _wife_ of a _sheikh_ has a dress code,”

Lance nodded, sucking in a ragged breath. “G-good job,”

He couldn’t stop staring. Keith was…alluring, that was for sure. Who knew dressing him in red would make him look so… _wow._ He suddenly had the fantastical thought of dressing Keith up in pretty clothes, taking him out on the town, taking good care of him and then slowly peeling those clothes off and—

Lance had to stop thinking like that. He wasn’t doing his heart any favours.

Hunk patted him on his back, bringing him out of his thoughts once again. Lance turned to see him shrugging all of their bags onto his back.

“We should get going,” he said, pushing Lance lightly on his shoulder, moving him closer to the sleeping half Galran on the bed.

Lance nodded, reaching for Keith. He manouvered the sleeping body onto his back and lifted him up, piggy backing him. Keith draped over his body, breathing heavily in his sleep.  _Quiznak_ , his skin was still feverishly hot, though not as bad as before. There was stiffness in his leg from where it was wrapped in the bandage. Pidge handed Hunk the cloak, who then draped it over both Keith and Lance. He covered Keith’s slightly purple face with the hood.

Once ready, they set off out of the rooms and into the cold streets of the resident town.

Keith whimpered in his sleep at the sudden change in temperature. He tightened his grip on Lance’s neck, huddling his veiled face in the curve of the Altean’s neck. Lance let out a long breath, feeling the moist heat of his prince’s breath against his skin. It made him shudder, but he shrugged it off. They had more pressing matters.

Turning the street corner, he was hit with the sight and scent of the salty sea. The water itself had a thin surface of ice, which was easily cracking under the barrage of ships and boats that had settled on the dock. The loud murmurs of the horde of sailors and sea-goers was immense. However, the hustle and bustle of the busy dock made it easy for the four to meander their way to the ship in question.

The ship was white in colour, matching the icy sea below, it had blue sails that rose high into the whitened skies, and silver coloured riggings and ropes. If it weren’t for the heavy scent of wet wood, the ship looked like it was made of the very ice it was slicing through.

The biggest brother boat on the docks. With so many meandering hallways and thousands of rooms, it'd be easy to hide in there and while away the hours until they reached their destination.

Hunk pointed to an empty galley way, the platform raising from the busy pier to the ship itself. Seeing no one else around them, Hunk ushered the others to the plank.

Meandering through the many people with Keith on his back was surprisingly easier than Lance had first anticipated. With each movement, Keith tightened his grip on Lance, until his legs were bracketed on either side of Lance’s hips and his arms were locked together across his chest. His tail was tied to his waist under the cloak, his hooded head hidden in Lance’s curled hair. But other than that, there was no part of Keith visible to the people milling around them.

It was just what they wanted.

They quickly made their way up the galley way until they reached the edge of the ship. But a large, hulking dark skinned man stood in front of them, his bulging arms crossed over his chest.

“What are you doing here?” The large man asked, eyeing the four.

Hunk stood in front of them, his eyes narrowing and his usual happy façade falling to something much more threatening. He had to act as the kings royal guard, so he let out his 'inner Shiro'.

“We have come to travel to Arus on your little ship,” He said, his voice a drawl as he spoke to the guard. “My king and his wife are in need of a release for their honeymoon,”

“Honeymoon you say?” The guard asked, studying Lance and the cloaked Keith.

Lance leaned to the side, trying to inconspicuously face away from the curious guard. He made sure Keith’s hood was securely on his head, and the cloak covered his body. He raised his head high in the air, acting the part of a perverted king that frequented brothel boats with his new wife.

“Your little boat is good for relief, is it not?” Pidge asked the guard, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Ah, yes. We are the best.” The guard suddenly said, stepping back. He peered at Lance once again, eyeing Keith’s prone form. But Pidge and Hunk blocked his sight. “We provide all the relief you desire, however this is the back entra—”

God, this guard was persistent. If he saw Keith as a Galran, who knew what kind of things he would do to them. They needed to get on this boat. The quicker the better. They didn’t know how the Galran sentries had found them on the train. But if someone was watching them, then they would probably know they were getting on this boat now. It’d be best to get this voyage over and done with quickly. Hiding in the ships quarters would at least deter them from any attack.

But first, they had to get passed the gate keeper. The man was too large for them to fight through, and anyway, someone might notice his disappearance, and then they’d be stowaways on the ship. Keith was already badly in shape, and having to hold him and try to hide from the others in the ship would prove to get old really fast.

The thought of being thrown overboard into the icy sea below did not sit well with Lance. Not one bit.

_Why was he still looking?_

“Is he looking at me?” Lance said suddenly, his eyes narrowing. "How dare he look at me with those unworthy eyes,"

“I apologise,” The guard jumped back suddenly, looking away. But his interest was still piqued, and his beady eyes were staring straight at Keith. Lance thanked god that Keith was still unconscious and still covered.

But the guard was getting too close.

“Man!” Lance yelled, motioning to Hunk.

“You will not look at the Sheikh." Hunk said hotly, standing in between Lance and the guard. His eyes were narrowed angrily. “And you will _never_ look at his wife,”

Flabbergasted, the guard stepped back, his eyes darting to Keith once again. And Lance knew what he saw, he felt the slithering of Keith’s Galran tail against his calf. His tail had come loose and was hanging behind them both.

“But she has a—”

“How dare you look at my wife!” Lance yelled, pushing his way onto the boat. Many of the other people on the ship turned to see the commotion, muttering under their breath.

The guard seemed uncertain, holding his hands up to quieten them down in a placating manner. He didn’t want to get fired because he was not upholding the rules of another cultures royalty. Their ship was the most popular brother boat, if he did not adhere to keeping his customers happy, he'd be fired, thrown off the boat into a watery grave.

“Man!” Lance continued, using the advantage they had just gained.

Hunk, falling into character, stood before them, cracking his large knuckles in his palm, looking like he was ready to fight the guard.

“No please, your majesty.” The guard whispered his plea, ushering them to the side of the ship, away from the watching eyes of the other guests. “Please enter. We will have a special private suite for yourself and your people. No one will disturb you or your lovely wife,”

“I will allow you to live,” Lance nodded, huffing at the injustice. “But I warn you. If any of your men disturb me or my wife. I will have my man slit your throat.”

“Yes! Thank you,” The guard motioned for them deeper into the boat, walking through the throngs of people and the meandering hallways. He stopped in front of a long corridor, leading to one single door at the other end. It was near the very back of the ship, just below the captain’s cabin. It would be perfect for them, no one would come here and no one would know they were here.

“Welcome!” the guard said, pushing open the door. “Your room, your majesty, I hope it is to your liking,”

He then ushered Hunk and Pidge to a room on the side, the door was hidden in the walls themselves, but it pushed open to a smaller room with two beds, a few shelves and a desk. It was a servants’ quarter.

Lance nodded, slipping the guard a few coins as he stepped into the main room. The guard waited patiently, placing the bags by the door. Lance made a small noise to indicate they were done. The guard quickly pocketed the money and left them to the room, closing the door behind him.

“Well, this is not bad,” Pidge said, taking a look around the main room.

It was decorated to look like an underwater palace, the walls were still the icy white as the rest of the ship, but there were appliques and swirling designs that mimicked the raging sea below them. A small cupboard, a dressing table and a desk lined the walls. The bed was circular and in the centre of the room. There were sheer curtains draped around it, leading up to a point on the ceiling at the very centre. The plush pillows and the comfortable looking duvet and sheets were inviting.

“We’re gonna unpack,” Hunk said, tugging Pidge’s arm. They made their way out of the main room and into the servants’ quarters. It would be best for them to act like royalty and servants while they were on this ship. Who knew if someone might accidentally walk into the room?

Lance watched them leave, closing the door behind them. He carefully placed Keith on the soft plush of the bed, the cloak pooled around him. He looked oddly beautiful in that outfit. He was built, with strong abs and muscles, but in this outfit, he looked _beautiful._ Dainty and pretty.

The princes’ eyes were still closed, mouth parted slightly, lips moving wordlessly in his sleep. His hair had been ruffled by the hood and small strands were tickling the sides of his face. His Galran ears peeked out from the spikes, twitching slightly. His lips were concealed by the net veil and Lance suddenly had the urge to lean down and kiss him.

Despite his mind telling him not to, his heart beat mercilessly in his chest. Just a little kiss… he clenched his eyes shut, hoping that by not seeing Keith below him, he’d not be feeling so…hot. But it wasn’t helping, his very face was seared into Lance’s mind. So instead, he opened his eyes and let himself look. His gaze trailed down Keith's body, having memorised every dip and curve he could see. He was so gorgeous, even tinged a little purple. His face had an aristocratic look about it, which was surprising, his jaw was defined and his cheekbones were high. His long lashes kissing the apples of his cheeks. He possessed a rare beauty, something people sought to have, and very few saw in the flesh. 

His bow shaped lips were hidden under the thin veil, the net pressing onto the shape of it, taunting Lance, teasing him with what could be. Would it be all that bad if he just leaned in a little closer and pressed his lips against it? Before he knew what he was doing, he felt the zing of electricity ricochet through his body as his lips pressed feather light on Keith's pout. It was barely a kiss, but Lance could feel the intense heat, even through the thin material.

He noticed Keith shudder, whimpering a little, before his eyes opened, bleary from sleep. He looked up, seeing Lance sitting next to him and he breathed out slowly.

“You promised…” he murmured, causing Lance to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

What had he promised?

Keith looked away, tears springing from the corner of his eyes, making a wet trail down his cheek. A dull ache pounded in Lance’s heart at the thought that he had made Keith cry. He wanted to pull the man close and console him from his tears. But Keith looked up at him, his eyes slightly yellow, but still searing in their coal blue.

“You lied to me…”

...What?

"Keith," Lance reached out for him, pushing him back onto the bed. He leaned over the half Galran now, wanting to know what he was talking about. He hadn't promised anything, had he? And why did Keith think he was lying? "What did I promise?"

Keith blinked a few times, clenching his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed, as if he were in pain, but his eyes opened again. His cheeks burst red, fingers grasping at his shirt, wanting to push him away, but pulling him closer. He was hardly putting any pressure where it was needed. What Lance wouldn't give to just reach up and touch his prince...

"Lance?" Keith breathed.

Lance moved his hand to Keith's, lightly stroking the skin along his forearm as he moved. He felt Keith's hair bristle underneath his fingertips, and the slight shiver that ran along his body. 

Then Keith leaned forward, tearing the material from his face and colliding his soft lips with Lance's lower lip. He nibbled on it slowly, taking in the feeling of a thousand sparks of electricity and ecstasy that tumbled into his mind, flooding his senses and cutting off any sense of reality. He didn't care where they were or how they got there. All he saw was Lance, all he felt was Lance. 

Lance moaned into his mouth, the low rumble causing Keith to reciprocate and snake his arms around Lance's shoulders, pulling him closer. Lance pulled back, tenderly tugging on his lower lip.

"Keith...I-" he murmured, but didn't finish. He trailed a slender finger down Keith's cheekbone, feeling the heated skin under the pads of his finger. "Are you sure?"

"Don't lie to me again," he growled.

Lance nodded, still unsure what was happening, but knowing he would never lie to Keith ever again, especially if it got his prince to kiss him like that.

Once again, Keith closed the gap between them, this time more fiercely than before. As Keith's hands clutched his shirt, Lance's nimble fingers roamed over his chest and sides, causing Keith to shudder softly underneath him. He tilted his head and grazed his teeth against Lance's bottom lip, inviting him in.

Lance didn't protest, dipping his tongue in to Keith's mouth, exploring as much as he could. He tenderly kissed his prince, cupping his cheek and angling his face just, to kiss him more intensely. He didn't know when they would be able to do this again, but he really didn't want to stop prematurely. Their tongues met in a sweet dance, lips moving roughly, fingers gripping and clenching on clothing and hair.

Hot, it was so hot. Lance pressed Keith solidly on the bed, straddling over him, supporting his weight on one hand, while the others moved curiously to touch Keith, sliding and stroking his way down Keith's curving hips. The Galran groaned into his mouth, his fingers digging into Lance's spiky dark hair, nails dragging down and slipping under the fabric of his shirt. God, Lance had the most stunning body Keith had ever felt. He wanted to tear away their clothing and just touch him, grind into him and sate the feeling building up inside him.

Lance pulled back slowly from the kiss, grinning. "Glad you're back, my prince,"

Keith had a slightly disappointed look in his coal blue eyes, his cheeks tinged red. "Don't call me that." he looked around in the room they were in, eyeing the netting around the circular confused. "Where are we?"

"A brothel boat, prince," Lance smirked, sitting up, so he was straddling along Keith's hips. When Keith looked at him oddly, glancing down at his clothing, he quickly added. "And you're my wife,"

The look on Keith's face was absolutely priceless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Well now...  
>  Ahem.


	8. Vulgar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I..uh...well...  
> Do you ever have that moment when you're doing something and it goes a complete 180 from what you expected?  
> Yeah. well that is the first part of this chapter.
> 
>  **Warning**  
>  Sendak....gets a...lover?

Sendak growled low, his ears flicking back as he watched Throk, his second in command, devouring a leg of meat. He had been sitting at the head of the long table of the dining room in the Castle of Lion’s.

If Throk weren’t such a great decapitator of those who opposed them all, Sendak would have forced him to leave the court. However, King Zarkon’s ruling was through fear, and Galran’s like Throk, and himself, were popular in combat.

But right now, he had a job to do.

“If the half breed is clever,” he murmured, prodding his fork at the food on his plate. “He will not be getting to Arus on normal transportation,”

He hadn’t had an appetite ever since he had seen the King, though he frequented the throne room to relay messages to the king, seeing him getting old, angry and frustrated at everything around him.

He was acting like a petty child. And Sendak was having trouble with his choice of ruling. Not that he would ever retort his theories. He had a job here; he was able to fight for his king, for his people.

And now, having to kill a half breed all because a Galran had fallen for an alien. It no longer sat right with him. Over twenty years had passed since he had last seen the half breed run from Galra. That should have been enough. He was no longer a part of the race. A cub of eight cycles would not have lasted very long in the woods.

However, in his greed, the king had sent sentries to kill the boy. And mere years later, they had infiltrated Altea and destroyed everything that made Altea the Holy City, burning its greatness to the ground.

Death to the Altean King. Long live King Zarkon. Vrepit sa…

Or so he had believed…

Sendak held a hand to his chin, deep in thought. “He and his little group would not be taking another train, or a car for that matter, no; they will be taking something we Galran’s despise.”

Throk looked up then, meat spitting from his mouth as he spoke. “What do you mean?”

Sendak grimaced.

“A brothel boat,” he stated simply. The aggravation and sheer repugnance on Throk’s face was what he felt inside. Galran’s were a proud race. They would _never_ bed another race. It was blasphemous. It was why all half-breeds were killed at birth.

However…

“Calm brother,” Sendak said, forcing his thoughts away, holding a hand out to Throk. “It is the only viable transportation that hides them from us,”

Throk’s ears perked up. “How so?”

“Would _you_ ever step foot onto a brothel boat?” The continued look of disgust on Throk’s face answered his question. “I didn’t think so,”

His second in command placed the bone of what was once a leg of meat down onto his plate. “But they won’t let you into the boat either,”

That was correct. As much as Galran’s despised the thought of a non-Galran lover, the non-Galran’s also though the same of them. No brothel boat would allow a Galran, full blooded or not, onto their establishment.

This was proving to be a problem. And Sendak was sure the half breed would have found a way to get onto a boat.

“Not if you are alone.”

The King’s voice was a thundering reminder, it echoed along the dining room. Looking up, Sendak saw their king standing at the door. Sendak saw his fellow court members alongside him, the fruit woman holding her tray high in the air.

Both he and Throk stood, holding their fists to their chest and bowing their heads.

“My king,”

King Zarkon walked into the room, holding a hand out to the two, stopping at Sendak. “You will take a female with you,”

“May I suggest the fruit slave?” Sendak said suddenly, surprised himself at what he had said. But looking up at the wavering arms of the pale skinned slip of a woman, he couldn’t take back what he had just offered.

Zarkon eyed the woman, yellow eyes narrowing. She looked away, but her tray still stood steady.

 “She is loyal, and obedient.” Sendak continued, hoping to explain to himself why he had decided to pretend to play house with a non-Galran. “If she dies, there will be no out lash to our female Galran’s,”

The slave gasped, and Sendak could see her visibly shiver from fear, or from the cold. He couldn’t tell, she was still wearing that strip of cloth around her body.

“You have a point, Sendak.” Zarkon replied after a few moments of silence. He held onto her hand and threw her to Sendak. The commander held onto her, stopping her from falling. “Take her with you, dress her up and get on that boat.”

Looking down to the pale skinned woman, Sendak’s eyes widened. And he didn’t understand why he was suddenly warm inside.

“Yes, your majesty,”

 

The day grew long, and Sendak was growing weary. He hadn’t expected this to happen to him. He was a commander of an army. Killing one measly half breed should have been easy.

But of course not. He had to go on some wild chase around the country in order to find the pestilent cub and his little mates. And now he was stuck with a fair skinned female to boot.

“What is taking you so long?” He growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

He had opted to covering his body with a long cloak, a hood over his head from the frigid air. He stood in front of a small building, inside were a few rooms where people could get ready in. And that damned woman had been taking forever.

Moments passed, and the woman stepped out of the building. She had opted to wearing similar garb to Sendak, covered in a long cloak that fell over her shoulders and draped down over her slim body. Her long dark hair was combed straight, her skin was a peach pink and her eyes were a leafy green, mimicking the forests that once surrounded Galra when it was prosperous and not the wasteland it had become. Her bow shaped lips were a pale red, white teeth biting at the plump bottom lips flesh. She was dressed in a long shirt that was tied off in the middle. The shirt barely reached her thighs, showing off her milky skin. She had long ankle boots on too, which hid her dainty feet. She looked a lot different than when he usually saw her.

She looked pretty…for a fair skinned alien.

Looking around them, he quickly made his way to her. Taking a hold of her shoulders, sucking in a breath when he felt her shudder under his grasp. He pulled the hood over her form, pulling her cloak closed over her outfit.

“You will act as my lover on the duration of this trip,” He told her, seeing her nod obediently. “If you do well, I will let you free,” Her eyes widened and she gasped, holding a hand to her mouth. “If you do not—“

“I will do well,” She vowed, holding the cloak over her form. “I promise,”

“Good, now hold onto my arm,” he ordered, taking in another long breath as her pale arms emerged from the dark cloak and wrapped around his thick arm.

Slowly, they made their way through the many people meandering around the port until they reached the ice white brothel boat. His very skin tightened at the thought of setting foot on something so vulgar. But he was doing this for his king, he’d just have to force the bile down his throat.

Making his way to a large hulking guard, he nodded to him. “I request access to your boat.”

The guard paused, looking up into Sendak’s eyes. He shuddered when he saw the yellow and purple hidden under the cloak.

“G-Galran,” he whispered harshly, but was stopped when Sendak’s eyes narrowed angrily, his attention turned to the fair skinned girl next to him. “And a…”

“My mate and I are runaways,” Sendak interrupted, feeling the woman’s grip on his arm tighten with fright.

The guard swallowed bleakly, his lips quivering. His gaze ran to the woman again, and Sendak could see he was trying to see if she was safe with him. _Him?_ What need did he have for a fair skinned alien? He was a proud Galran, he didn’t need any one.

But he needed to get on this ship.

“I can’t—” the guard started, gazing behind them to see his long line being taken over by another guard.

“You require proof of our union,” Sendak said, he took hold of the woman’s shoulders, pushing her cloak back and leaned in close. He could feel the woman shiver under him, an odd sounding gasp escaping her lips. He narrowed his gaze at her, forcing her to play along. She closed her eyes obediently and tilted her head up.

He reached out, gently pulling her face to his. She whimpered slightly, but not from fear. She didn’t resist his touch, so he closed the gap between them, devouring her lips. When they touched, he had lost all ability to think. Without giving a second thought, his other arm wrapped around her petite waist, pulling her closer. She arched her back into his body, kissing him back. Her hands running over his chest and up to his shoulders where she finally let them settle around his neck.

It was consuming, this odd feeling. Her body was small, her scent was pleasant, and her taste was innocent. He couldn’t help but break the kiss and run his tongue along her jaw, wanting to taste her skin. He heard her gasp, and smiled at the thought that he made her react so.

The guard cleared his throat, clapping his hands together with glee.

Sendak pulled away, forcing her to his side. She ran her hands around his arm again, her hold much tighter and hotter now. Looking down, he saw her lips were much redder now, and her forest green eyes were glazed over.

Wanting no one else to see her dazed look, he reached down and covered her face with her hood again. She leaned her head on his bicep, sighing a little.

Sendak cleared his throat and turned his attention to the guard. “The king will not allow our union, so you understand our need to enter your boat,”

The guard, who know seemed to have hearts in his eyes and a permanent smile on his face, ushered the two in. “Yes, yes…we welcome all kinds here,”

He led them to the lower floors. Sendak could hear the sounds of aliens being merry in the rooms they had passed, and he blanched. This was not why he was here. He just hoped he’d find the half breed brat and kill him.

“Please, feel free to use this boat for your desires,” the guard said, pushing one of the doors open to an empty room.

Sendak nodded, ushering his woman into the room, watching as she made her way to the corner nearest the window and closed the door behind the guard.

Now he just had to find the brat in the few days they had on this boat.

 

~~

 

Hunk took the moment he had alone to survey the ship before it set off. It would be best to know where everything was before they embarked to Arus. Mostly, he was looking for an easy way to escape.

After all, if a Galran had found them in the train, who knew where they’d meet the fuzzy purple aliens next?

Though Hunk had been adamant that no Galran would ever step foot on a brothel boat, it was unheard of for such a pure Aryan race to come aboard a place so vulgar. He wasn’t so sure they would be so stubborn, especially if they were after someone who could dethrone their king.

Though Hunk thought the same for their prince – a brothel boat for the prince of Altea! Unheard of! – it was the only place he could think where they would be safe. Keith was injured, and they couldn’t just _walk_ to Arus.

Hunk bundled his scarf tighter around his neck and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The snow had settled on the deck of the ship, but thankfully the snow itself had stopped falling.

Peering over the edge and into the icy depths below, he shivered. His ears picked up a word that made him shiver for a completely different reason.

“I swear it, a _Galran!_ ”

Darting his gaze up, he saw a young woman speaking to another, dark skinned woman as they leaned against the wall leading to the dining hall.

Crap, were they talking about the prince?

He made his way over to them, leaning on the wall a few feet away, trying to look as nonchalant as possible while he eavesdropped on their conversation. If they really were talking about the prince, then he’d have to find a way to get them off the ship, and soon.

“No way!” the other woman exclaimed.

The first woman nodded. “He was in front of me, with this pretty woman,”

Hunk raised an eyebrow. That couldn’t have been right.

“A Galran woman?” the second woman asked, leaning in closer.

“No! And they kissed—” Hunk leaned in closer,  but the horn of the boat sounded, rocking as it raised anchor and started its long journey to Arus. Damn it, Hunk was missing what had happened. He leaned in a little closer, almost losing his footing.

“…I swooned!” the first woman finished. “To think they are trying! Bless them,”

_Oh god!_

Hunk’s eyes widened. There was a Galran on the boat. Stupid, stupid him for thinking no Galran would ever step foot on this boat. Now they were stuck here for three days with a Galran on board, one who was probably going to kill them all as soon as he saw them.

He had to tell Lance!

He just wished they didn’t have to jump into the sententiously icy sea below.

~~

 

“I'm your what?”

Keith stared up at Lance, eyebrows raised quizzically at what the pretty Altean had just said to him. He couldn’t have heard him right.

Lance settled himself on Keith’s hips and grinned.  “My wife.”

Keith reached up to push him off, but Lance was quicker. He took a hold of Keith’s outstretched hands and held them to his side, leaning in close until they were merely a breath apart.

“Calm down.” He said with a smirk. “I didn’t think it was such a bad idea,”

Keith’s cheeks burst a pink, and he looked away, embarrassed. He didn’t think it was a bad idea either. Instead of replying, he looked around the room they were on. The bed was comfortable under him and the duvet was thrown to the side, most likely in his nightmarish haste. But waking up to Lance kissing him had been…

…he didn’t want to say anything. Because this was _Lance._ A conman who probably only loved money and a quick fuck. And falling for a conman like that was not something he was going to let himself do.

Too bad his heart wasn’t listening to reason.

“How did we even get here?” he said instead, hoping to change the topic from whatever it was that was happening.

Lance held his arms out to the room, smirking when the boat shuddered and rocked under them. They were setting off, finally. “This boat is on its way to Arus. We _had_ to get on it.”

“But why did we…” Keith started, reaching up to brush his hair from his eyes, when he saw the long red sleeve, that led to the shirt and the red bell bottomed trousers with the odd netted sash. “Why am I dressed like this?”

“You were unconscious.” Lance replied, he reached down to the sash, and twirled the ends in his long fingers. Keith sucked in a breath at the sight of this handsome Altean sitting in his lap. _Why hadn’t he moved away?_ “We had to get you on the ship _somehow_.”

“As your wife.” Keith swallowed, his mouth watering at the pretty sight above him.

“Yup,” Lance replied, lips pressing together to emphasise the ‘p’ sound.

Lance looked absolutely breathtakingly dishevelled, his long shirt, bell trousers and that turban like material over his head was a lot to take in. His dark hair was spiked up, as if he had been running his fingers through them constantly. Keith wanted to reach up and feel the softness against his own fingers, but he stopped himself.

Whatever it was, Keith knew this man was something else. Well, his body reacted immediately. Lance’s body was lean, and hard, his bright blue eyes narrowed, seductively, and his smile was amazing to see so close up.

Keith leaned up on his elbows, getting closer to the Altean. “Is that why you kissed me?”

Lance’s cheeks tinged a little pink under all that concealer. But he rolled his eyes and smirked. “I kissed you because I _like_ you,”

How could he say that so nonchalantly? This man was something else entirely, and it caused his heart to pound. He couldn’t deny his feelings for the man, and he had tried. But it was like a balloon had burst inside him, and be blurted out; “I... I like you too.”

Lance’s eyes widened, and he smiled softly. He cleared his throat, “Well. Great. That's settled.”

The sight of him, his eyes bright, his cheeks flushed and his mouth red, it made Keith’s stomach tumble, butterflies erupting and flapping around in a maddening circle. He could feel the reaction he had to the Altean bubble through his body, heating him and making him more aroused than he had ever felt.

Lance’s breath was ragged, following his own breaths, he stared down into Keith’s eyes, bright blue clashing with coal, and he felt an invisible force pulling him closer. He was too stunned and too confused to do much except wait and see what was going to happen.

Were they going to kiss again?

 _Quinak_ he hoped so.

Taking the chance before Keith could pull away, Lance angled his head a little and leaned in, pressing their lips together. He cupped the back of Keith’s head, tugging it back and angling his mouth open. He tugged that luscious lower lip between his teeth, hearing Keith gasp softly.

He took advantage of Keith’s opened mouth and slipped his tongue inside. The sudden shudder underneath him was so very arousing. Keith rocked up into him, grinding their hips together, fingers like claws, nails dragging along his chest, wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

It was so easy to get addicted to this. Moaning at the wonderful curiosity of the soft tongue probing his mouth, taking in the tangy sweet flavour that was Keith, Lance moaned. Having his prince’s body pressed so intimately against his own, rocking up and grinding so sweetly as if he couldn’t get enough. It was magical. His hands reached up to Keith’s hair, feeling the Galran ears peaking up, he rubbed the shell, hearing the low purring sound escape from Keith’s chest.

Suddenly, as if breaking out of an underwater trance, Lance pulled away. A growl escaped Keith’s lips, his eyes flashing a little yellow under the pretty lights. But Lance had to stop, he didn’t want to do this here.

This was the _prince!_

Once they reached Arus, he was going to go meet the princess and live happily ever after. They _could not_ do this. Leaving him would only cause more heartbreak.

He rolled off Keith, lying on the bed next to him. They both looked up to the ostentatious curtains that billowed out from the ceiling and over the bed. Both trying to catch their breath from the onslaught of their emotions.

Lance felt Keith’s fingers wrap around his hand, and he held onto the clammy palms tightly. Maybe they could make this work?

“I think I need to learn more about the prince,” Keith suddenly said, breaking their silence.

Lance was glad for the subject change. He nodded. “Good idea, we should get the others and…” but then he looked at Keith and his voice faltered.

 _Quiznak,_ it felt like they were back on the hillside in the Castle of Lions, smiling and laughing, holding hands and staring up into the starry night sky. He could still remember the stories they had come up with, of the mechanical lions that whizzed around in the darkness of space, of how they would be the best team to ever grace the universe. Partners, forever.

His heart ached at the memory. But he shook himself from that. There was no use of thinking about the past. He had to teach his prince everything about the past. And he was going to do so the best way he knew how.

“There’s one thing about the prince that no one else knows,” he started, it was best to start this with a bang, and then explain everything else. “He wasn’t Altean.”

Keith’s grip on his hand tightened, eyes wide at the news.

But Lance continued. “The princess had found him in the market place when he was just a child,”

Suddenly Keith’s thoughts flashed to a warm, sunny day, his ear throbbing and bleeding, of an awful smelling cloak wrapped around his body as his aching feet thudding against cobblestone. An apple sitting on a cart, a young Altean girl, and…a knife.

“She took him in,” Lance continued, looking up to the ceiling, not noticing the turmoil Keith was going through at the story.

His thoughts flashed through a memory, or was it his imagination? He could see images flash through his mind. Of a thick metallic arm wrapped around his middle, of a comfortable bed, a beautiful white haired woman, the scent of flowers, and the sound of thunder and…and…

“She must have seen something in him, because she adopted him and he became the princess’s son,” Lance finished, tightening his grip on Keith’s hand. He turned to the half Galran, smiling softly. But his face fell when he saw Keith crying. “Keith? What happened? Are you okay?”

Keith nodded, wiping his tears away with his free hand. He didn’t know why he was crying, but his heart squeezed, aching.

Lance held his hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I’ll get you back to your mother, I promise,”

Keith nodded, not knowing what else to do. He knew if he spoke, he’d probably start sobbing. He remembered the feeling of arms wrapping around him, and he wanted that feeling now. He tugged on Lance’s hand, urging him closer. The Altean seemed to understand and reached for him, wrapping his arms around Keith’s middle and dragging him into a half hug. It wasn’t exactly what Keith wanted, but it was enough for now.

The door burst open in front of them. Lance reacting, vaulting back over to straddle Keith, hiding his slightly purple tinged skin from whoever had intruded their room. His hand reached for the knife he had hidden on his person – ever since they had faced off Markov, Lance made sure to have some kind of weapon on him. Words could only get you so far.

Looking back he saw Hunk at the doorway, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Almost immediately, Pidge emerged from the servants rooms, holding angular katar dagger in her hands. When they saw Hunk, they both put their weapons away.

Hunk closed the door behind them with a resounding thud, eyes wide when he saw the compromising position Keith and Lance were in. His eyes narrowed and a smirk played on his lips, but he shook his thoughts away.

“Guys,” he said, leaning back on the door. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What happened?” Lance asked, getting off Keith and sitting on the bed. Keith sat up, wrapping his arms around his exposed middle.

“There’s a Galran on the boat,” Hunk whispered harshly, leaning into the room.

Lance shook his head, no self-respecting Galran would step foot on a brothel boat! Hunk must be seeing things. That had to be it. Right?

Crap, what had they done?

“No way,” he said, his voice wavering with nervousness.

Hunk shook his head, walking in to the room, “I swear, these two girls were talking about a Galran getting into the boat, at first I thought they were talking about the prince, but they said he was with a non-Galran _woman_ ,”

“What?” Pidge asked, straightening her glasses on her face. “A Galran with a non-Galran woman?”

This was not possible. What were they going to do? Keith was still injured, his fever, though it had fallen somewhat, was still pitched. The icy waters below them were not the best place for any of them to be. And this boat didn’t have any lifeboats, not that he had seen any.

And speaking to the guards and the staff would only cause _them_ more problems. They were here on their honeymoon, talking about a Galran in their midst would only cause attention to themselves.

Fuck, they were stuck!

Hunk shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. “Do you think it’s the scary one from the train?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Keith said, wrapping the cloak around his body, he was still a little embarrassed from wearing female clothes. “We’re stuck here for three days,”

Lance nodded, getting off the bed. “We’ll just stick to the room, stay hidden and the days will fly by. You’ll see.”

Oh, how wrong they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuun!


	9. Apples and Boats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This weekend has been very busy, work has reared its head and I have had to spend hours (and hours and hours) transcribing -- which sucks by the way.  
> But I thought to keep my promise of updating this over the weekend. So, I wrote this over the week, so it may not...well, it'll seem quite rushed, and quite short.  
> However, I just really want them off the boat.
> 
> Eheheh...enjoy~!

The waves lapped against the icy white brothel boat as it slowly made its way through the thawing seas. The sun had risen in the horizon, and it was clear to see that it was going to be yet another glorious day.

However, not the same could be said for the party.

Keith, still fever warm and injured, lay curled on the silky sheets of the bed, skin still tinged a light purple, thick cat ears pressed to his head in his nightmarish haze, tail extending out and wrapped around the arm of to the other person on the bed with him.

Lance lay next to him, curled against the sheets, head tucked into Keith’s hair, arms wrapped around and tucked into Keith’s body, one which had Keith’s tail wrapped firmly around him. The tip tickled his nose, but he took no heed of it. He breathed softly in his sleep, there to keep Keith’s nightmares at bay.

The slick air around them was freezing, so they had opted to share the bed, to conserve heat. But right now, they didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Hunk and Pidge had taken to sleeping on the floor by the bed, having taken the bedding from their rooms and placing them in a nice large nest on the wood. They were draped comically over each other; however no one took notice of it.

It had been best not to steer too far away from one another. Who knew what the Galran on the boat was here for, but they were not going to pin the idea that that Galran was here for them, here for Keith.

So staying together at all times was crucial. Staying in their room and not heading out was also priority.

However, that didn’t stop the attendants from knocking on their door that morning.

Keith’s ears flicked back at the incessant knocking, tickling Lance’s face. With a wrinkle of his nose and a low moan, Lance was awakened by that swivelling appendage. Looking up to the dreary room, his eyes widened. He was lying on Keith!

He tried to sling his arm from under the half Galran, but Keith only let out a sleepy moan and took a tighter hold of his arm.

Someone knocked on the door again.

“Who is it?” Hunk asked, having gotten up from his warm bed. He shrugged the covers from his body, reaching for his weapon and holding it to his side, ready to be used if need be.

The sound on the other side of the door was quiet, quaint and a little jittery. Which was odd, considering they were on a _brothel boat._ “I am your attendant, your majesty,”

Hunk looked back at Lance, who looked down at the sleeping Keith. He shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what to do.

The door knob slowly started to turn, a low creaking sound erupting into the silence of the room.

“Do not enter,” Lance yelled, holding his hands out as if it would shield them all. “We are not decent,”

The door handle stopped moving. “Why your majesty, even in the morning?”

Lance’s eyes widened, maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words in this kind of establishment. But as long as that meant the attendant wouldn’t come in to the room, anything was fine.

The attendant continued. “I commend your stamina and valour,”

Keith stilled underneath him, and Lance rolled his eyes. He looked down and saw Keith had woken up, alert, but silent.

“Does he think we’re—?” Keith whispered, sleep laden in his voice.

“Yup,” Lance replied, leaning in close.

Keith wracked his brain for an appropriate answer; he understood the consequences of an attendant finding stowaways on the boat. It was one thing to be a brothel establishment, but they took their security seriously. Knowing that they had lied would grant them a one way ticket overboard.

“Should we?”

Lance’s eyes widened. _Should we what?_ Tell the attendant what was really happening or pretend that they were actually doing what the attendant thought they were doing?

He shivered, leaning in close to those pretty Galran ears, and whispered, “Don’t tempt me, my prince,”

Keith’s body stilled and Lance smirked at the pale purple blush that flushed his cheeks. He looked pretty.

“I have come to inform you, breakfast is waiting for you,” The attendant said, the sound of cutlery following him. He had brought a tray table for them, with breakfast. At least he was listening to their previous arrangements, no one was to look at Lance or his ‘wife’, and Lance was thankful for that. “Would you prefer me to bring it in?”

“Leave it outside, my man will get it,” Lance said, falling back into character. He turned to Hunk, seeing him having laced his shoes on, anticipating the event. “Hunk, go!”

Hunk got up and stood by the door, but froze. If they opened the door to let the attendant in with the breakfast, he’d definitely see what was happening in the room – or what _wasn’t_ happening.

Keith latched onto that train of thought and pushed Lance from behind him. He lay on his back and motioned for the Altean to sit on his lap, like he had done last night.

“Take your shirt off,” Keith said quickly, helping Lance by pulling at the hem of his long tunic like shirt. Lance eyed him oddly. “Just shut up and trust me,”

Almost swiftly, Lance took his shirt off, throwing it in the recesses of the bed. He shivered at the sudden cold, wrapping the sheets around him as much as he could. Whatever Keith’s plan was, it better work!

Keith, still in his red outfit, pulled the sleeves and wrapped his arms around Lance’s back, fingers curled into fists.

Pidge giggled, getting up from the nest bed she had slept on, dragging it to the corner of the room, away from the attendants glancing line of sight. The two looked like they were in the throes of passion, she could barely see Keith, the sleeves had been pulled up to cover his arms, and his fingers were hidden too. The rest of his body was covered either by Lance or by the sheets.

Clever boy.

Hunk pulled open the door, his large body blocking as much as it could, but he knew he had to move to let the attendant with the tray in. If he didn’t love food as much as he did, he’d think this was all too much of a hassle.

The attendant was small, with long pointed ears that drooped down, thin, pencil like lips, and almond shaped eyes. He was wearing the customary uniform of the people in the brothel boat. Looking out, Hunk saw a few more, similar looking attendants catering to the other rooms on the other end of the hallway. So at least this attendant was legit.

The attendant pushed Hunk’s body with the breakfast tray; it was on four wheels, the plates were domed with silver, and sheets were falling on either side of the table.

Hunk stopped him. “Open,”

The attendant, probably used to these kinds of accusations, quickly lifted the domes from the plates, showing delicious looking foods of all types on the plates. He tugged at the curtains underneath to show a barrage of pastries and breads.

Hunk’s mouth salivated. But he cleared his throat, letting the attendant in.

The attendant nodded, pushing the cart into the room, but stilled when he saw the two on the bed. “Oh, you’re still…”

Pidge held her hand out to him, blocking his view. “Do not look at his majesty or his wife!”

“Yes, I…” The attendant jumped, vaulting away from the table and holding his hands to his eyes. He whimpered, actually whimpered, at the woman who was probably two inches shorter than he was. He cleared his throat and continued, explaining what was in the tray.

Lance waved him off, not moving from his space, lest Keith come into view.

The attendant nodded, making his way to the door, but stopped at the frame. “There is more news,” he stated, fiddling with his long fingers, “There is a Galran on board,” he held his hands out, “he is safe and most likely part of the resistance, but I advise you to be weary,”

Keith paused. _Part of the resistance?_

“I will take my leave.” The attendant bowed, before leaving and closing the door behind him with a quiet thud.

The four in the room let out breaths they had been holding. Lance reached for his shirt, shrugging it on and getting off Keith’s lap. He lay back on the bed, taking in a breath. They had almost gotten caught!

“Resistance?” Keith breathed.

Lance nodded, having heard the attendant. “There’s got to be a few out there that are against Zarkon.”

Pidge shrugged on her jumper, shivering against the cold air. “Do you think the Galran here is a good guy?”

“Until we know more, we won’t know if this Galran is friend or foe,” Lance suddenly said, getting up from the bed and slipping on his shoes. He tapped the end of the shoe to the ground and got up.

“Hunk and I will go check it out,” He continued, reaching for the cloak and wrapping it around his body. Lance slid his weapon into his belt. Hunk nodded, getting himself ready.

Keith’s voice was barely above a breath, but Lance heard him whisper his name. He sat back onto the bed, reaching a hand onto the bed. Keith’s fingers crawled across the mattress until they wrapped around his hand.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Lance said quietly, not looking back. He didn’t want to see the sad look on his prince’s face. He _knew_ it ached Keith to be stuck in bed, in this room, with purple skin and an injured leg, while Lance went out to dangerous places.

It was Lance’s fault he was hurt. He was not going to let _anything_ bad happen to his prince. Not anymore.

“We need to get more information,” He continued, running his thumb in soothing circles over Keith’s hand.

“Or find the Galran or his lover,” Hunk stated, sliding his weapon into his belt, and covering it with his shirt.

Keith nodded, he knew it was right, they didn’t have much time. It was better to get more information than be sitting ducks. But he couldn’t stop his heart from yearning.

Maybe it was that awful dream he had, of Lance leaving him, of Lance promising him and then leaving him. His heart was beating madly in his chest, and his head was aching, and it wasn’t because of his fever. There was something deep inside him that wanted Lance out of harms’ way. And he wasn’t sure if this was a current thing, or one that he had instilled in him since before he could remember.

Why was it that he could remember Lance, or at least someone _like_ Lance? All he knew was that he had a large void in his heart, and Lance was filling a large part of it.

“Please…come back soon,” he murmured, knowing he sounded like some wife saying farewell to her husband going off to war. Not that _this_ was any different. He was technically Lance’s wife on this boat.

Lance tightened his grip on Keith’s hand. “Wild Galran’s couldn’t keep me away,”

Keith’s eyes widened at Lance’s words, but before he could say anything, Lance had left him.

 

~~

 

Sendak hated this boat.

He hated every scent, every sound, every silent rocking of the waves lashing against the boat. And he most definitely hated the young fair skinned woman who slept on the bed, the sheets barely covering her tiny body. He had left as soon as he was able, but the others were watching him, giving him a frightened look with their beady little eyes.

And though Sendak usually reveled in the fear he could elicit from people at his mere sight, right now, he needed to stay on this boat, and that meant staying in his room for far longer than he wanted.

He hadn’t slept; he had spent the night scouring through the boat, hood covering his face and cloak covering his body. He did not need to strike fear in the hearts of those annoying giggling pygmy attendants that had spent the night rushing from one room to another, pushing those god awful tinkling tray table that held all sorts of different contraptions on them. Some buzzing, some slicked with oil, all smelling putrid.

His ears had been haunted by the sound of moans and groans, bed springs and clothing, whips and the sounds of chains and all sorts of odd noises.

These people were vulgar.

He hadn’t found the half breed, but he had murmurs from other people about a sheikh and a woman who had a purple tail. Both who were not supposed to be looked at.

Sendak had spent his entire adult life infiltrating all of the kingdoms, and not once had he come across a sheikh, let alone one with a wife who had a purple tail. But looking back to his own tail, he smirked.

That _had_ to be the half breed.

_He was here._

However, finding him was almost impossible. And the day was already coming to an end. He only had one more day left to find and kill that brat without the other residents on this ship knowing. He could wreak havoc on the boat no problem, but he’d rather not be outwitted on a brothel boat of all places.

The quicker he got off this monstrosity, the better.

Sendak grimaced as he swept passed a dark skinned man and a large man, they were both dressed in tunics and turbans, yet neither had any markings of ‘royalty’ on them. And none of them had tails. He made his way down the hallway to his own room, the one the fair skinned woman was in.

Closing the door with a thud behind him, he braced himself for another long night of standing by the doorway, before he once again ventured out to look for that brat.

 

~~

 

“Dude, there is no Galran on this boat,” Hunk groaned as they passed yet another table filled with delicious looking pastries.

They had just had dinner, having spent the evening with Keith and Pidge in the room. Keith was starting to look a lot better, but Lance was adamant that he not walk on his injured leg until it was fully healed. Even though Keith had told him it was more than healed, and he didn’t need to be babied, Lance didn’t listen.

They had ventured out of the room once they were fully fed and rested. The boat was huge, immense in size and in rooms. There had been no speak of a large Galran walking about the boat, or of his lady love.

So whoever had come on the boat was spending their time in hiding, from other Galran’s or from them, Lance didn’t know. But he wanted the Galran and his lady love to stay hidden until they reached the port in Arus.

He reprimanded himself, he shouldn’t be worried about one little Galran in a massive boat of this side. The Galran that had infiltrated the train most definitely would have told the king of their whereabouts, and they were most likely going to find an entire army of Galran soldiers at the foot of Arus’s pier.

Shit.

He hadn’t thought of that.

It seemed Hunk had the same thought, as he took Lance’s arm and they quickly rushed back to their room. Hunk closed the door behind them as Lance bee lined for their bags. He unzipped his and started pulling clothing and other things from inside, throwing them all around the room, until he finally found what he was looking for.

With a slick ‘aha’, he held the contraption up into the air.

“A phone?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lance nodded, holding it up to Keith’s face. “Yes a phone! Not to alarm you, prince, but there might be Galran’s all over Arus pier, waiting for us,”

Keith held a hand to his chest, clutching on his shirt.

“But with this –” he held the phone up in the air again – “I can speak directly to Coran and have him pick us up just outside Arus,”

“And how do you plan to get ‘just outside Arus?” Pidge asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not like this is a bus with multiple stops,”

Keith nodded, claws ripping from his fingers and tearing at the sheets. He breathed, gasping more like, trying not to panic. They were going to die. If the Galran on the ship wasn’t going to kill them, then the armada that would most likely be in Arus would destroy them, _and the ship!_

“It only has two stops, the port we got on, and Arus,” Pidge continued, leaning in and trying to figure out just how to get them off this boat without alerting anyone else.

“The lifeboats!” Hunk yelled, reaching for the phone and quickly typing a text on the screen. “I think I saw some hanging off the boat by the bow,”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “We _are_ by the bow,”

“So they should be somewhere here,” Lance stated, he turned to Hunk, getting the man to continue texting Coran. He pushed the window open, letting the cold sea air into the room. Shivering, he looked out into the oncoming darkness and spied a boat just a few feet below them to the right.

It would take some leverage, but they should be able to get onto the boat through the window no problem.

“Sent it,” Hunk said quickly, a few moments later the phone buzzed in his palm and he quickly opened it again, almost dropping it in his haste. “He’ll meet us two vargas from the pier, _tonight,_ ”

“Vargas?” Keith asked, quizzical at the new word. He was getting used to Lance saying ‘quiznak’ all the time, but this, he hadn’t heard this one before.

“Don’t worry,” Lance stated, picking up everything he had taken out of his bag and stuffing it all back inside. “Alright, pack up your stuff, we’re leaving right now.”

Keith nodded, thinking it better to just follow what was happening rather than question it all. After all, he was here because of Lance; he had gotten this far because of him too. So it only seemed right to follow the plan too.

Hunk locked the door behind them, taking the nest of bedding they had made on the ground and wrapped it into a ball. He tied the bedding onto his rucksack, using the draperies and ropes he had found in his and Pidge’s ‘servants quarters’. Pidge helped to secure it onto his back, along with his rucksack, as she packed up her things.

Lance shrugged his rucksack onto his front, the straps against his back, rather than the rucksack itself. He leaned down in front of Keith, motioning for the half Galran to hop onto his back.

Keith rolled his eyes, reaching for his backpack, and strapped it onto his back. With his leg still bandaged tight, he got up and draped himself over Lance’s back. The Altean let out a quick groan as he stood up. Hunk stood at the window, Pidge leaning out to see the boat.

“I think I can get it,” she said, she held a rope in her hand; wrapping it a few times around her palms and arm. She handed the other end to Hunk. “Propel me,”

Hunk nodded, bracing himself against the window ledge and nodding. Pidge nodded back, and turned at the ledge. She gave one look to Keith, before she slipped her feet off the ledge. Her hands gripped tight against the ledge, her feet scrabbling to find purchase on the boat.

Above her, she could hear the sound of music and merriment, but she paid no heed as she scaled the wall slowly to the boat, when she was directly above it, she looked to her left to see Hunk leaning out of the window, his arm and leg braced against the frame, his other leg rooted inside. He took all of her smaller weight, so she was confident enough to propel down onto the lifeboat.

She landed on the wood of the boat with a loud oomph; the oars shook, but settled onto the bottom, safe. There was a small box, what looked like a first aid kit, and a tarp like sheet that was folded over to cover half of the boat.

Setting her feet under the benches of the boat, she shrugged off her pack, wrapping the rope on her hands, around the bench a few times, and then around the straps of her rucksack, using her bag as a counterweight.

“Alright! Pull it up,” She whispered harshly up at Hunk.

Hunk nodded. He and Lance took the rope and hefted the lifeboat along the side of the bow. It scraped along the wood, which made Pidge wince, but thankfully the sound of the music and the laughter of the voyagers muffled any sound they made.

Once the boat was directly below them, Hunk took the rope and wrapped it around he four posters of the large bed.

There was a faint thudding on the doorway, followed by a familiar sound of metal hitting wood, and Keith’s eyes widened.

He recognised that sound from his dreams.

Lance sucked in a tight breath, looking back to the doorway. “He’s found us!”

The sound only got louder and louder, and it sounded nothing like the attendants, or their breakfast trays. Those were heavy footfalls, the sweeping of a cloak and the low growl that was definitely Galran.

“Lance…” Keith murmured, almost whining low in his throat with fear.

Lance patted him on his arm, tightening his grip around Keith’s legs, securing him to his back, so he couldn’t go anywhere.

“After you,” Hunk said quickly, ushering them to the windows ledge.

Keith looked down to the boat, and down, down, down, to the icy water below. His grip tightened around Lance’s neck, and he closed his eyes, hiding himself from what was definitely about to happen.

“Don’t worry, prince,” Lance said, breaking Keith from his fears.

The sound of the Galran’s thud, thud, thud, of footsteps was getting closer and closer, and he grimaced. Fear shot through his entire body. But Lance was so confident, his smile was wavering, but it was strong, it was there.

Keith nodded, and they jumped out of the boat.

They landed with a thud on the lifeboat, the boat swayed and they faltered to the bottom. Lance was quick, yanking the tarp and pushing Keith under the white, until he was completely hidden. Hunk dropped down onto the boat with a yell.

“He’s in the room!” Hunk yelled harshly, getting his knife and cutting through the rope that held the lifeboat to the main boat. Pidge followed him, and soon they were in a freefall.

Keith’s stomach jolted in their descent, he reached out for Lance, finding his hand. Lance pulled the tarp up a little, peering in and smiling brightly.

“Brace yourself!” he yelled against the whoosh of wind that surrounded them.

Keith nodded, clenching his eyes shut, his grip tightening on Lance, and his body curling in on itself.

Moments passed, and the ship broke the surface of the river. It sloshed about, rocking back and forth. Freezing water soaked Keith’s clothes, and he shivered under the tarp. He was frightened, but calmed when he heard the three laughing. The life boat started to move, at a rather fast pace. But he stayed under the tarp.

The Galran had almost found them on a brothel boat!

Whatever these Galran’s wanted, they were definitely going to do anything and everything to get it.

His thoughts were interrupted by Lance pulling the tarp up and over his head. Keith shivered as the cold air whipped around him, but the smile on Lance’s face warmed him up a little. He handed Keith a duvet, from the bedding Hunk had taken with him. Keith took it, with a quiet thank you, and wrapped it around his shivering form.

He looked out to the sea then, the main boat was still large, and hulking behind them. Transcendent as it sliced through the icy seas. He didn’t see the Galran, neither was he able to really see what window they had come out from. But it didn’t matter; they were away from the threat, and going off into the dead of the sea.

Looking ahead, Keith saw nothing but darkness and the lapping waves. The sun was slowly setting into the horizon, and there was no sight of land anywhere. And even if there was, the low mist that was coming off the freezing waters below made it impossible to see anything.

But Hunk, who was steering the boat, seemed to know where he was going. He rowed with such efficiency, such strength. It made Keith glad they had someone as versatile, and as lovable and kind as the large Samoan.

_“Princess Allura will not be happy if you are injured again!”_

What?

He grimaced as his thoughts were suddenly filled with a large tree, an apple tree. It was huge, towering over him, and he was climbing it, climbing to the very top. He _had_ to get to the top. He _had_ to get that apple. _He had to!_

_“Your mother wants you ready for the ball!”_

Hunk…had Hunk been yelling at him? No, that wasn’t possible. He had only just met the man a few days ago.

It wasn’t possible…what was he thinking?

“Coran, Coran the handsome man,” Hunk started to sing in his dulcet voice, breaking Keith from his thoughts. “The most handsome man in all the land,”

“Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man!” Lance joined in, holding his arm out to the skies, as if he were singing to the willowy moon itself, “the most gorgeous man, you know he can!”

They fell into a duet, the lyrics changing and moving, and their voices lilting and melodious. It was a nice reprieve from the sheer terror they had felt just moments before.

He let himself fall back onto the lip of the boat, covering his cold body with the duvet, listening at the merriment of his group.

They might actually be able to pull this off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...he's slowly remembering his past!
> 
> We will finally see Coran in the next chapter~!  
> Whoo!


	10. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...ahem. So, yes.  
>  This is quite a bit late.
> 
> ...sorry...

Coran, Coran the Gorgeous man

When Lance and Hunk had sung the songs, Keith had expected the man to be the most gorgeous man they had ever seen. However, the man he saw…well, one could say Coran had a certain charm about him. But he wouldn’t class the lanky, orange moustached man as _gorgeous._

As the night grew cold and weary, and the sway of the ship had lulled Keith into a sense of hapless ease, the view of the mountainous city of Arus was finally in sight. Keith shrugged the duvet over his body, hiding himself away from the cold sea air. He eyed the pretty stars in the darkened skies, like little sparkles dotted all over the inky blackness, and let out a loud sigh.

They had been on this boat; alternating in rowing, for…well Keith didn’t know how long. All he knew was that he and Pidge had had their turns, and now it was Lance’s turn to row the boat.

His gaze ran down from the stars to the Altean. Lance was looking out into the sea, his powerful arms moving under the thick cloak, his eyes shining a brilliant blue in the moonlight. His face was lit up by the moonlit sea surface, giving his skin an ethereally pale glow, even his Altean markings were shining. He was enchanting to watch.

But he was still a conman.

Not that that did anything to deter Keith’s heart.

There was definitely something about him. Something more than just the journey they had shared. Something inside Keith told him, instinctively, that he knew Lance, and Hunk…that he knew them from somewhere other than Vox and their adventure.

His dreams didn’t help him, not at all. With the mishmash nightmares that took over his every dream, and the panting, hard hitting, sweating and shivering thoughts that took over his every waking second. It had been hopeless to try and hide his fear; it was why he had immediately teamed up with Pidge to find his family.

So far, the story Lance had cooked up, the one about _him_ being the Lost Prince, it seemed viable. He too had lost his family when he was eight, and he too had lost his memory and hadn’t been found for fifteen whole years. But…

…but that was all just coincidence.

He still couldn’t imagine himself…Keith…the half Galra hybrid, being the lost prince. Even with Lance’s confession of the lost prince not being a fully Altean, it didn’t mean the prince was half Galran.

No Altean in their right mind would have taken in a half Galran cub. He was a detested kind to both his own species the Galran’s, and everyone species he came in contact with.

He was thankful his other half was similar to Pidge and Hunk, because he didn’t think he’d be here if he was say…a Balmeran.

But he was digressing, ranting to himself. There was no other way to while away the hours they had been on the boat, and he didn’t dare sleep, lest the nightmares return once again. So instead, he focused on Lance.

He focused on the beautiful Altean sitting before him, watched as he methodically rowed their little boat across such still waters. Pidge moved next to him, but he didn’t pay heed to her. His attention was on Lance.

Under the rushing sounds of the water as the coat sliced through the surface, he could hear a low thrumming sound, it was heady and thread-like, but if he focused, he could hear the low timbre melodically working with the water.

Humming…

Lance was humming. Or was he singing? Looking back up, he didn’t see the Altean’s mouth move, but he could see the quiver in his throat. He was humming _something_ , Keith didn’t recognise the tune, but he let it wash over him, let his ears attune to the sound until it was all he could hear.

Soothing.

That’s what it was, it was _soothing._ And suddenly, Keith didn’t feel all that worried. As long as they were here, as long as they were embarking on this journey together, they could get through anything.

Even those Galran’s and their sentries following them.

However…

Keith paused, as did the humming. Though that could just be because Lance had started muttering something to himself under his breath. Not that Keith could hear just what he was saying; it was as if he was having a private conversation with the moon itself.

However…

How _had_ the Galran found them?

It was food for thought, because from what Keith knew, Galran’s _did not_ venture into Brothel Boats, runaways or otherwise. That was something like a taboo to the species. And even if the Galran itself had found a non-Galran lover, why…just why did he pick _that_ particular boat on the same day they had gotten on it.

That could not have been coincidence.

And the Galran on the train. He hadn’t seen the Galran per say, but he had heard the sounds, the metal thud, thud, thud. At first, he thought it had been a part of his dream; those sounds were etched into his mind. But when Lance forced him awake, and those sounds carried out of his dream world, he knew…he knew they had found him.

_How?_

And why now?

He had been a sitting duck in Balmera. They could have easily come in and killed him in Vox there and then. No one would mourn him – well no one other than Pidge. But even so, why now?

Was it because he was having second thoughts about his heritage? Was it because, deep down inside the darkest pit of his heart, he was starting to _believe_ what Lance was saying. That he _was_ the lost prince. That the Princess was his mother and that he had indeed lived in a castle when he was younger.

It was still a _lot_ to take in. Someone as detested as Keith could never truly have been born into princedom, there was no way. But, in the deepest recesses of his mind, he was really liking the idea of finally, _finally_ finding his mother, his family – even though the castle part was too fantastical even for him.

But…maybe that was why the Galran’s were after him.

The boat rocked a little more, calling his attention. Keith peered up, looking at Lance, and his eyes widened.

In the not so far distance was a large mountain. He spied the tip reaching all the way up into the dark skies until it disappeared itself within the starlight.

“Guys, we’re here,” Lance whispered, shaking the three of them up.

Slowly, both Pidge and Hunk got up out from their nest of comfort, and looked up to the looming mountain above them. The small boat docked at a sandy pier at the edge of the rocks. Lance jumped into the knee deep water, taking hold of the end of the boat and dragging it along to the beach. Once they had hunkered onto the sand, the three in the boat quickly grabbed their things.

The sand sunk under their feet, but they slowly made their way through the dew and onto the rocky terrain.

“Coran said he was going to meet us at the half summit,” Lance said from the very front. His face was shining from his phone light.

Keith was in the middle, next to Pidge, who was deftly scaling her way along the mountain trail and terrain. She was part-chimp or something, he was sure of it. Her tall stature met Lance’s longer legs in no time. Hunk was at the very bottom, as guard and lookout, and Keith; well…Keith was trying his best. He wished he was able to use his Galran traits to help him; he’d be able to scale the mountain quickly with his claws and tail, but no. Not possible. Not right now. Instead he trudged through.

“You alright down there?” Lance asked from the very top.

Looking up, Keith saw he had reached a flat rock platform, it jutted out at one side, overlooking the treacherous sea below. Taking a brave breath, Keith reached up, climbing the rest of the way until he, along with Pidge and Hunk, had finally reached the flat rock. Looking around, Keith noticed behind them was a small cave, barely a few feet in size, but the overhang jutted out almost to the point of the platform edge, hiding the summit from plain view. To their left was another, thin trail leading from the platform up and around the mountain. It was hidden beneath brambles and thorny bushes, but it was clear to see if someone knew what to look for.

Was this where the infamous Coran was hiding?

“Alright, this is where Coran said he’d meet us,” Lance said, peering at his phone once again. He looked up then, looking around the darkness. “He should be here by now,”

The sea looked like it was miles and miles below, yet they had barely climbed that much at all. With slightly panting breaths, they leaned back against the mountain wall, looking over to the horizon. The skies were lightening some, the stars dotting out slowly, one by one.

They settled onto the rock, pulling out some snacks and provisions they had brought with them from the boat. Not knowing when their next meal was going to be was not something Keith ever thought he’d have to go through. But as they sat in a tight circle, a small fire blazing between them, sharing food and looking out to the beautiful sight of the sea below them. Keith really didn’t mind.

When the sun had fully risen from the horizon, and the morning warmed up some, there was a rustling in the brambles and bushes to their side.

Lance and Hunk immediately reached for their weapons, still unsure whether it was friend or foe. Keith understood, they had met too many Galran’s and sentries in their journey to take anything to chance. Who was to say they hadn’t followed them all the way here?

With bated breath, Keith waited; Lance had pushed him behind them, standing directly in front of him, a large phaser gun in his hand. He had upgraded, it seemed – when, Keith had no idea. Maybe he had conned someone on the Brothel Boat to trade a knife for a gun – but Keith was glad for that.

The brushes twitched again, rustling and scratching against the rock, before a pale hand peered through the middle of the bush. The hand was followed by a lanky man wearing a brown explorers’ outfit, a thick brimmed, circular hat on a thick head of orange red hair, pale skin, bead like eyes, and a similarly orange moustache. He had the same blue markings on his face that Lance had.

Another Altean!

“Coran!” Lance yelled, sheathing his weapon and running over to the tall man. He wrapped his arms around the tall man, hugging him for all he was worth.

_That was Coran?_

“Lance, my boy, you made it,” Coran said, his accent was something completely different to what Keith had ever heard in his meeting of different species at Vox.

However, the only Altean he had remembered meeting was _Lance McClain._

Coran dropped Lance back onto the ground, taking Hunk into the same back breaking hug. He placed Hunk back down and peered at Pidge and Keith.

 “Is that him?” he asked.

Hunk nodded, holding his arms out to the two. “Meet our lost prince, Keith!”

“Really?” Coran held a hand to his chin, twirling his moustache in his fingers. His bead like eyes travelled all over Keith, watching him with concern and concentration. “Well, he certainly _looks_ like the lost prince, is Keith your real name?”

Keith nodded.

“And can you…” he paused then, looking around to where they were. “Not here, let me get you all someplace safe.”

He motioned for them to the trail, pushing the branches and leaves to show a thin trail of uneven steps leading around and in to the mountainside.

The sun grew heavy and hot in the skies once they finally reached their location. It was a small house in the middle of the forest. With a thatched roof, small square windows and a thick and heavy looking door. There were vines and leaves and all different kinds of wildflowers twining their way around the house, making it almost impossible to see the building through the leaves.

Coran pushed the door open, and Keith was suddenly bombarded with a familiar, yet unfamiliar scent. It was a meaty and heady scent, and something in his heart told him he knew what that scent was.

Stepping into the house, Coran led them to the small circular living area, telling them to make themselves at home, before disappearing into the kitchen area. Keith stood at the door, unsure of what to do. Looking inside, he saw there were sofas and comfortable looking chairs set up with thick pillows and warm blankets. Lance nudged him in to the room, and to one of the seats. When he sat on the sofas, he sunk into the plush.

Coran returned a few moments later with five steaming cups of…well, _something_. It looks like black sludge, but it smelled like cinnamon and sweetness.

It smelled familiar.

He reached for it, not seeing the hesitance in the others’ eyes, and took a sip of the slightly sluggishly thick black sludge. His thoughts were suddenly taken to warm hugs and the scent of wild flowers, the feel of pale white hair in his fingertips and the heat of arms around him, holding him close.

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, but he shook his head. His imagination was running wild again, and his dreams were taking precedence over his thoughts. That had to be it. He wasn’t thinking straight.

Coran sat directly opposite him, taking the glass and sipping it. He had been watching closely ever since he had first seen Keith, and the half Galran was starting to feel nervous under those bead like purple eyes. There was something about this man. He wasn’t sure what, but even though deep down he knew this man wasn’t dangerous, the way he was watching him, like a hawk, made Keith want to burrow into the sofa cushions and never see the light of day again.

“So _Keith,_ ” Coran said suddenly, making the half Galran jump at the sound. “Tell me about yourself,”

This was it. This was where the interrogation started.

He took another long sip of the unfamiliar, yet familiar, drink, swallowing it down, before he started. He told Coran everything, well everything he could remember. The fact that he had been found on a train when he was sixteen or seventeen, he wasn’t sure the exact age, but he was definite that he had been a teenager. And that Pidge had found him, and for the next fifteen years, he was in Balmera, working in Vox.

“And what about the dreams?” Coran asked.

Keith’s eyes widened. How had he known?

“I…I have nightmares…every night,” Keith confessed, staring directly into those purple eyes. It was as if the fear he had felt for the man before had completely disappeared, and he couldn’t help but reveal everything he kept close to him. He told Coran everything about his nightmares, about the forest, the oil, the sound of a woman screaming his name, the sound of metal footsteps. And then of his latest dreams, the ones of someone holding onto him and taking him away from Lance, of the feeling of fear and betrayal he felt.

He didn’t know why it was so easy to confess something so personal to him, he hadn’t even told Pidge about what his recent dreams were about, but there was something about Coran that made him want to tell him everything.

Coran sat there, his fingers twirling the edge of his moustache, lips quivering just a little, his eyes wide as he listened intently. Yet he had no discernible expression on his face.

When Keith finally finished, breathing a little heavier at the amount of speaking he had done, and of the memory of his dreams, the room was filled in silence. No one spoke, either too shocked at what Keith had been going through every time his eyes closed, or still trying to process everything he was saying.

Keith felt Lance’s hand on his shoulder, grounding him to the present, and instead of where his mind had wandered. And he was grateful for it.

After a few more moments of silence, Coran straightened out in his seat.

“I’m convinced,” he said suddenly.

Lance’s sigh was audible throughout the room. Keith turned to look at him and saw him smiling brightly. It hurt his heart a little at that though, because this meant they would probably never see one another again.

Once he found his family, Lance would take the reward money and leave him. And what about when the Princess found out that he was a fake? That he was a Galran half breed? What then?

He’d be thrown out, or put in jail. Or worse…killed.

He suddenly didn’t want to be there anymore.

But… _but!_ He’d finally find his mother; he’d finally find his family. He’d finally know who he was and where he was from. Hopefully, _hopefully,_ the Princess would be merciful to him and help him find his parents. Or at least find him someone who cared for him, who loved him and he would love in return.

He just wanted his family. That was it.

And that family, though it included Lance, he’d have to make do with a hole in his heart when Lance finally did leave him. He turned to the Altean, seeing his bright smile as he clapped his hand over Keith’s shoulder, pulling him closer.

“There’s one more question I’d like to ask though,” Coran suddenly said, and the happy uproar in the room deflated. “Why did you run away?”

“Coran, come on,” Lance said suddenly, Hunk had stood up alongside him, wanting to hopefully try to get him to take the question back. They hadn’t explained this part to Keith; they hadn’t told him what really happened that night.

Fuck, this was it.

Keith narrowed his gaze at Coran, his mind running a mile a minute. But his heart was sure of one thing.

“I hadn’t run away,” He stated, full of confidence in his answer.

Coran leaned in closer, intrigued. “Oh? When the Galran’s came for the peace treaty, you ran, didn’t you?”

No…no, that sounded completely wrong.

Peace treaty? With the Galran’s? In Altea?

No…

…that…that couldn’t be right. Could it?

His head started aching at his thoughts, but he knew, _he knew,_ there hadn’t been a peace treaty. There had been no peace with the Galran’s; there had never been any peace with them and the Alteans. He was so sure about that, he didn’t know he was muttering his words out loud.

“Oh, so then what happened that night?” Coran asked his voice just as low as Keith’s was. Everyone around them had stopped what they were doing and were intently listening as Keith continued to mumble under his breath, trying to remember a dream.

Or was it a dream?

“A ball…” he muttered, his thoughts being bombarded with the memory of swirling dresses in bright colours, the scent of champagne and delicious food all around him. He was happy, warm and watching a beautiful white haired woman dancing with a dark haired man, he had been clapping along, watching them from his place on a platform. No…not a platform. He was sitting…he had been sitting on a comfortable chair…right?

The beautiful woman and the handsome man were spinning along with the other dancers, moving around the room and laughing, they were so happy.

“But then something happened…” Keith continued trying to remember what had happened next. Something about…something about… his eyes widened. The memories were almost as clear as day as they ran through his mind. “Galran’s…they were everywhere,”

_“I see you…”_

Keith’s head thudded madly; he was aching and hot, sweat pouring down his body, slick and hot. He knew he had turned Galran without having to actually see his skin or feel the transformation.

The Altean before him suddenly jumped back, startled at his sudden transformation. But he didn’t get very far. Once the initial shock died down, he was leaning in all the more closer to Keith now.

“How did you escape?” He asked, nudging the half breed to the answer.

He had to make sure. Keith knew he had to make sure. But Keith had never had any of these thoughts being so vivid in his mind before. They were always snippets, or random thoughts and moments, like when he had followed a white haired woman through the town, only to stop her and not know why. Or when he had wanted to wrap himself up in a thick cloak, or why he was so frightened of the thunder.

Something…something about…

_“I know you’re here half breed,”_

A loud voice, a man with a long white beard and a moustache picking him up and throwing him to another man, to…to…someone!

_Thud…thud…thud…_

Someone was holding onto him, whispering in his ear. He didn’t know what she was saying, but he felt safe.

“We were in a room…” Keith said out loud, holding a hand to his head, trying to squeeze the pain back. Lance’s arm around him was a sort of calming solace, but it wasn’t enough. He _had_ to remember. He just _had_ to!

He tried, he really did. He wanted to remember everything about that night. Though he didn’t know how or why he remembered something like that. But he was trying to remember something he had probably seen fifteen years ago. Something that had…had happened to him…or hadn’t it? Was this all just him remembering a dream?

Why was this so hard?

Keith looked up to see Coran and the others staring at him intently, as if they knew something he didn’t. He wasn’t confident in his thoughts, not any more. But he knew they were waiting for something.

“There was a boy…” he continued, remembering…it had to have been a dream or something… “…and he opened a wall?”

He felt Lance’s arms fall from his back, and he wanted them back around him. He wanted to feel Lance close to him. But the Altean conman had backed away from him.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Lance suddenly said out loud, causing everyone to jump.

Keith was glad for that, because he really didn’t know if his head, or heart, could take any more.

What even was that?

“Right,” Coran said, clapping his hands together. He stood up then, hands fidgeting at his sides. “I think we should get something to eat, who’s hungry?”

Without waiting for an answer, he rushed into the kitchen once again. There was the sound of pots and pans crashing onto the ground, followed by Coran swearing something in Altean, before it stopped.

Keith laid his head back onto the sofa, unsure of what to do. His thoughts were running through his mind, of the night at the ball, in the…castle? That…that couldn’t have been the castle…could it?

But his thoughts had betrayed him, and the sound of the large man that had broken in to the ball, his thunderously deep voice, and those eyes. Keith shivered at the memory.

Opening his eyes, trying to rid of the memories, he looked around and saw that Lance had disappeared.

Where had he gone?

 

~~

 

Lance pushed open the door and let out a loud panting breath. Seeking for the nearest place to rest his weary body, he found a large flat rock in one corner of the large forest that surrounded Coran’s home, and he slumped onto it. He took in a few deep breaths, trying to get his rapidly beating heart back to order.

He hadn’t expected that. After hearing Keith’s story, he needed to get some fresh air. But it was there, clear as day. That story, about the wall opening. It was _him_ who had helped the princess and the royal guard out of the castle. It was _him_ who had opened the wall in the servant quarters.

Keith, _his Keith,_ was the lost prince. There was no doubt about it now. The man he had stumbled upon in the restaurant, the man he had spent the last few days with, the man he had _kissed,_ was the Lost Prince of Altea.

Though he was happy, ecstatic even, that he had finally found his prince. His heart fell at the thought. He had found the _prince._ Keith was a _prince!_

“Lance?”

Turning to his name, Lance saw Hunk push the door open to the garden. He had two steaming drinks in his hand. He handed one to Lance, who took it and took a large sip of the familiar liquid inside.

“It’s him.”

Hunk nodded, sitting down next to his best friend. “I know.”

“What am I going to do?” Lance continued, placing the glass onto the space next to him. He held his head in his hands, sighing out loud. When Hunk gave him a quizzical noise as a reply, he looked up at him. “He’s a prince!”

Hunk shrugged his shoulders. “And?”

“And I’m just a kitchen boy,” Lance groaned, head back in his hands.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it. He had fallen for the man, fallen for the familiar feeling he felt when he was around Keith, for the way he laughed, the way he smiled, the way he flirted and fought back. Everything about the man.

And now he _knew_ Keith was the same Keith that he had fallen in love with when he was younger. Back then he would have never done anything to jeopardise their relationship. After all, he was just a servant, and his prince was a prince. But he had hoped in this journey, though short. He had hoped and wished and wanted. He had kissed Keith, and he wanted to do it again, and again, and again.

But now…he was back to the beginning again. Back to the time where he was the lowly servant and Keith was once again the prince.

This was all going to shit.

Keith appeared out of the door, a smile on his face as he made his way to Lance. He held his hands out and pulled Lance from his sitting position. Wrapping his arms around Lance, he held the Altean close.

“Coran is going to take us to see the Princess,” Keith said, pulling back and smiling so happily. His yellowing eyes were so bright, his skin a slightly purple tinge.

“Really?” Lance asked, his heart aching at the thought. They were one more step closer to him leaving. One more step to Keith being out of his life once again…

“You look sad,” Keith reached for him once again, wrapping his arms around the taller man. “You’re not gonna leave me are you?”

Lance was suddenly reminded of all of those late nights they spent together, sitting on the cooling hill, bundled together in blankets, watching the stars. Promising to never part from one another. But he knew he was going to have to lie once again.

He had to lie to the one he loved.

_Again._

“Wild Galran’s couldn’t keep me away,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor babies...


	11. Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...sorry for the lateness.  
>  I had written and rewritten this chapter like ten times over, and I still don't really like it all that much. But something is better than nothing, right?
> 
> I'm so sorry...
> 
> Also, FYI, the first part is for my dear Le Star-Lord. I kind of did it...right?

"YGCA (Young Galra Combat Association)"!   


Oh this was not going to end well.

Not at all.

This had to be a weird, champagne induced dream. Shiro was sure about it. Because how else would he be here, standing at the edge of a metal mesh platform, the wind whipping over his muscular, armoured, body, black sword in hand, fighting ‘evil Alteans’ who had been holding someone hostage.

Nothing else made sense.

He saw a spiral staircase leading around and to a humungous rocket like contraption at the very other end of the large platform, and on there, wrapped in a black cloak, was a large figure. He wasn’t sure who, their entire body and face was completely covered by the material. But he knew he’d have to save them before the rocket launched.

What even was his life?

But there were zombie like Altean’s making their way to him, their skin sallow and their eyes reddened and large as they slowly made their way to him. They were so easy to barrage through, barely holding a fight. But he did not want to cause any of them injury or harm. He needed to keep them intact enough to turn them back into their normal, non-evil selves.

What the hell was he even doing?

“You will not be able to save him!”

Looking up to the platform by the rocket contraption, he saw a woman in a long black hooded cloak standing next to his princess. Allura wasn’t even looking at him, too busy with her back to him, working on some kind of control contraption. The woman held a small circular vial in her hands, inside was a bluish liquid. “I have made all the Altean’s evil with my PX-41 Quintessence, and I will take over the world!”

“You won’t get away with this, Ina!” Shiro yelled as he pushed away another ‘evil Altean’, the flimsy Altean stumbled back, draping over the metal barriers around the edges of the platform. Almost too easily, Shiro reached the rocket, rushing to the figure. He could see the same bluish liquid through the small porthole window, inside the rocket.

The figure strapped to the rocket started squirming, screaming for help as if he were speaking through a gag. Shiro tried his best to untie the ropes wrapped around his larger body. Whoever it was, they better appreciate what he was doing.

“Shiro, I beg you, let us do this!” Allura’s voice cut straight through him, and Shiro paused. Looking up, he saw his white haired princess pressing a few buttons on the launch pad, getting the rocket ready to launch.

“Princess, what are you doing?” Shiro screamed over the humming sound of the rocket starting up.

“Ina is right,” Allura replied, looking at Shiro pleadingly. “The Altean’s need to return to the kingdom, this is the best way for them to do so,”

“By turning them into mindless zombies?” Shiro cried.

But Allura didn’t listen, too disillusioned by the witch to know she was about to send all the Altean’s to their deaths – including herself. Ina must have drugged her somehow.

He stripped the last part of the rope from the figure and helped him down from the rocket. The figure pulled the cloak from over his head to reveal purple skin. Sendak. Knowing he didn’t have a lot of time to ask _why_ the commander was strapped to the rocket – because then he would question just what the quiznak he was doing here in the first place, and he didn’t have a proper answer for that – he instead made his way around the rocket and to his Princess.

Quickly vaulting behind her, he wrapped his arms around Allura’s body, forcibly pulling her back from the launch pad before she caused any more damage. Sendak appeared next to them.

“Let me help!” He yelled over the engine of the humming rocket.

Seeing the desperation in his eyes, Shiro nodded, taking the squirming princess away from the launch pad. He held a large gun in his hand, firing laser like shots at any of the evil Altean’s that were slowly making their way to him. They froze, stunned from the shot, rather than injured, and fell to the ground in heaps.

“I’ve changed the coordinates to send the rocket to the nearest volcano,” Sendak stated, his finger flying over the keyboard, typing codes and phrases into the sequence.

Shiro hadn’t even known there was a volcano in the country, but he trusted the Galran knew what he was doing – which again was a shock to himself, because the last thing he would do was trust a Galran.

As the rocket launched, Sendak told him to watch for any interference, Ina could still try to change the destination of the rocket as it was in the air.

“I’ll go after Ina,” Sendak stated, he made a mad dash for the woman, pushing her onto the ground. But she had broken the vial in her hands, placing her palm to her mouth, and drank the quintessence.

The transformation was slow, but where the once small cloaked woman stood, she grew into a larger, blue skinned monster, with pulsing bright yellow eyes. Sendak was on her like a shot, slicing away at her skin with his sword until there was nothing but ribbons of flesh.

…again, Shiro thought, watching intently as the Galran moved, this all just seemed so easy. It had to be a dream.

Once Ina had fallen to the ground, Sendak leaned back; wounded from the fight, but glad she was down. He turned to see Shiro slowly making his way over to him. Allura, having seen the errors of her ways, was calm by his side, reaching out to help him up.

“What can we ever do to repay you for your help?” She asked.

Sendak looked down to Shiro, pointing to him. “A date,”

Shiro’s eyes widened in shock. Wait, what? A date? As in…a _date_ -date? Absolutely not, no way in this lifetime or the next.

“Done,” Allura said gleefully, taking his hand and leading it up to Sendak’s outstretched ones.

A date…with a Galran?

 

~~

 

Shiro woke with a start, sweat dripping down his body, his heart jack rabbiting in his chest. He held a hand to his chest, trying to get his breathing back to normal.

What the _hell_ had he been dreaming?

Looking back, he saw his princess lying on the bed, looking so beautiful as she lay in the soft and comfortable covers. He white hair was strewn over the pillow, her arms held to her pretty lips and he let himself come back to where he was.

He was _never_ going to try another one of Sven’s food inventions ever again.

As if knowing he was up, his phone chose then to ring. Reaching for it, he got up and out of bed, shivering at the cool air against his sweat soaked skin, and left the room. He didn’t want to awaken his princess.

“Shiro,” he said into the phone.

“I have finally found him!” Coran’s voice was so very chipper for so early in the morning. “And I am so sure this time,”

Shiro, recognising Coran’s voice, rolled his eyes. They had been through this ordeal a few times before. And they had all ended in utter dismay for his princess. She had been so sad and heartbroken every time she had seen a fake person try to act like the lost prince, to act like her son.

It was abysmal, and heart wrenching and he was against any more people coming and faking their way to riches.

“I am _sure_ of it,” Coran said confidently. “He knew how you escaped the castle, _and why!_ ”

“What?” Shiro paused.

No, that wasn’t possible. The entire world had thought the Galran’s and the Altean’s had a peace treaty. That once the king had died of an unnatural death, the princess had fled with her child in her sadness, leaving the throne for the current King Zarkon.

No one knew the real reason. And it had been fifteen years, there was no need. Shiro and Allura had created their entire life here. But he’d always see his princess looking forlornly out of the window, wishing for her life back in Altea.

She was a species without a home.

He understood that feeling.

“I’m bringing him over tonight,” Coran’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Prepare the princess for his arrival,”

“Coran, no. You can’t—” But Coran didn’t listen. He just said a quick goodbye, telling Shiro they’d be there by eight o’clock sharp and Shiro was left with the dial tone.

Damn.

Turning back to the bedroom, he took one long look at his princess, seeing a faint sad smile on her face. She was probably dreaming about their life in the castle again. When everything was good, when everyone was together.

He desperately wanted her to be as happy as she had been in the castle. But after so many false attempts, so many cons and hooks, he really didn’t think she could take one more failure.

But…Coran said this new candidate knew about the castle. That he knew how they had escaped, and why they had to escape.

Could it really be the prince?

 

~~

 

“So, the plan is,” Keith said, trying to go over what Coran had told him after waking them up so abysmally early.

He had barely gotten the chance to rest, knowing he was going to see his mother today. His body had been vibrating, his thoughts running all over the place. Who was she? What did she look like? Would she recognise him?

Was he _really_ the lost prince of Altea?

Was this all a hoax? Was Lance and the others really conning him? Would the princess take one look at him and sentence him to death for being a half breed?

He was so very worried; he didn’t know what to do. His happiness had been running through his mind, mixing with negativity and everything that made him worry, worry, worry.

Oh god. His stomach felt queasy, and that wasn’t because of the green goo breakfast Coran had made for them that morning – however it was a part of it.

But Coran had sat them all down and told them what the plan was. They were going to get Keith dressed up, take him to the Princess’s location – which was still a big mystery – and then they were going to have a happy reunion.

“It’s quite simple,” Coran stated, twirling the end of his shockingly orange moustache in his fingers. “And fool proof,”

Yeah, except for the part where Keith, and most likely Lance and Hunk and Pidge, were all going to be sent to jail, or worse to their death, for impersonating a lost royal.

Oh god…

Lance wrapped a heavy arm around Keith’s shoulder, pulling him close and comforting him and his wayward thoughts. He had been acting distant ever since yesterday, ever since Keith had found out that maybe he _was_ the lost prince. But he was back to his normal self, it seemed.

Looking at Lance, into those pretty eyes, Keith saw his hesitation. And his face fell. Lance may be acting like he was okay, but there was definitely still something wrong.

“It’ll be fine,” Lance stated, but his voice didn’t hold the depth and the care as it usually did when he said that. “I’ll be right there with you,”

Somehow Keith wasn’t convinced.

 

Hours later, and many, many, _many_ stores later, Keith stood in the changing rooms of a boutique tailor. He could hear Lance trying to con the man outside, telling him how ‘I am a kind of ‘tailor’ too’ which made Keith smile.

Looking down, he tried to get into what he was wearing. The dark suit was…interesting to say the least. The material was soft of his skin, and the white button up shirt almost shone with its starkness. The black blazer was pressed to his body, as if it was created just for him, and the black tie really tied everything together.

Running his fingers through his long hair, and let out a long breath.

He looked good. But…it just didn’t feel right. There was something about the suit that made it seem too…not him. Running his hands through his hair again, he took one last look in the mirror and braced himself. He needed to get out there and show everyone his new garbs. They had been doing this for the past few hours; Keith would go in with a suit, a tie, a blazer, whatever. Get dressed and then walk out in a makeshift fashion show. His skin was itching, his body sweaty and hot, and he just wanted to sit down.

He blamed it on his nerves.

They only had a few hours to get to the ‘mysterious location’ where he was finally going to meet his mother. And time was ticking quickly.

He pushed the door open and stood in the blearing lights. He heard Pidge wolf whistle, and Hunk and Coran give their opinions on the outfit – all stating he looked good, very princely. But Keith’s gaze turned to Lance.

The Altean held a hand to his chin, stepping closer and really taking a look at him. He hummed, walking around Keith, taking his entire body into his mind. Keith followed his gaze, hoping everything was okay. Had he left a tag sticking out? Was the outfit too big? To small? Did he look like a complete fool in it?

Lance stopped in front of him, reaching up to his collar and slowly, almost sensually, tugged at his tie, unlooping it and pulling it off. The feel of the material sliding under the collar around his neck made him shudder.

He wanted Lance’s hands on him. He wanted Lance to continue, pulling buttons and catches, pushing him back into the changing room, stumbling and fumbling with their clothing until it was just them, alone, touching, tasting and being together.

Shaking those thoughts away, he felt Lance’s fingers return to his neck. But Keith couldn’t stop staring into those beautiful blues. He hadn’t been wearing concealer then, and his Altean marks were shimmering brightly. His lips were in a pout, the bottom lip sticking out a little, and Keith wanted to lean in and lick it.

Shit.

Lance patted his chest then, taking a breath and stepping back. Lance looked down to see a deep red tie in place of the black one. And suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a bad suit any more.

Whatever Lance had done, with his fingers, his heat, his scent, just changing a tie. It had all made Keith feel all the less nervous. He felt like he could do this. That he could stay and fight. That he could go out there and meet his mother for the first time after fifteen years.

“Perfect.” Lance murmured, taking another look at the man before calling the tailor back again.

The old man appeared once again, holding a small pad in his hands. He took a look at Keith and nodded.

“We’ll wear it out,” Lance stated, taking hold of Keith’s arm and motioning him to the entrance of the store. Coran followed the old man, paying for the suit, and they all emerged out of the store, ready for their next destination.

A large black car stood outside the large shopping mall complex, large enough to fit all five of them. Coran took the drivers’ seat, Hunk sitting next to him. Pidge raced into the back, stretching her small legs out, leaving the middle two seats for Keith and Lance.

The car started with a horridly loud splutter, but they were off through the town and out of the city.

 

~~

 

The sun was slowly setting into the distant horizon, illuminating the sky with its pinkish blue hues. Keith laid his head against the cool window, staring out into the scenery passing him. They had left any and all civilisation behind, all that was out there was grassy landscapes, a few trees dotted here and there and the vast nothingness of fields and forestry in the distance. Every once in a while there was a wayward animal, either grazing in the fields or galloping away.

It had gotten all quite boring. But his body thrummed with each mile the wheels under him ate. He was just getting all the more closer to his mother. If she _was_ his mother.

Coran had been talking a mile a minute with Hunk about the ‘good old days’ and whatever he had been up to for the past fifteen years. Pidge was snoring quietly in the back seat, her leg propped up on the door handle, her head nestled in her thick jacket.

Keith spied Lance, who was fiddling with something in his hands. It was a small thing, looking like a coin. He flipped in it his hands, the setting sun shining on its metal surface. Whatever it was, he was really thinking hard over it.

It was all surprisingly smooth sailing.

Keith’s gaze fell from the darkening skies and instead to Lance. Once again, he found himself taking everything about the man in. There was still that thudding in his heart, the heat in his very soul that told him Lance was something to him. Something more than what they were now. Something older than their first meeting in Vox.

There was definitely something Lance was keeping from him. And now that he was being so distant, it only made Keith all the more anxious.

He had expected Lance to want to be near him, to hold his hand, to touch him with warmth, not the cold, distant, barely there touches he had gotten from the man. Whatever was going through Lance’s mind about the two of them, Keith wanted to know, just so he could throw the notion out of the window.

He loved Lance, and he knew Lance loved him too. But what was this all so hard? Why wasn’t he holding onto Keith now? Why wasn’t he telling him that everything was going to be okay?

_Wild Galran’s couldn’t keep me away._

He had sounded so sad when he had said that at Coran’s house. His eyes had been filled with grief, no longer the mirth and excitement they always had in them.

It was wrong. It _felt_ wrong.

But Keith didn’t think he’d accept his hand if he reached out now. He didn’t think Lance would accept anything now.

It _hurt._ His heart ached.

What had he done?

“Lance,” He called out, his voice barely above a whisper. But Lance heard him; he stopped fiddling with the coin and looked at Keith, smiling.

But his smile didn’t reach his eyes. And it _hurt._

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, he didn’t know what was happening, and he didn’t know why Lance was acting like this. But he knew it must have been something he had done.

Lance’s expression furrowed into confusion. “What for?”

Keith sighed, looking down. “I…whatever I’ve done…I’m sorry,”

Lance reached for him then, holding onto his hand from across the car. The warmth of his fingers on Keith’s skin was a solace Keith needed right now. He tightened his grip on Lance’s fingers, wanting the man closer.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, my prince,” He stated, patting his other hand over Keith’s. Placating, distant, there was no friendship in their touch, no love.

Nothing.

Tears sprung to the corners of Keith’s eyes, and he didn’t know what was wrong. _Why was Lance acting like this?_

Before he had the chance to scream, to rant and rave and shake Lance until the man confessed all of his digressions. The car came to a stop.

“We are here, your majesty,” Coran said.

Keith felt butterflies erupt in his stomach. Taking a glance out from the window, he looked up to see a small two storey house. It was quaint, small, and lovely to look at. There was nothing lavish about this, other than the fact that it was in the middle of nowhere. Secluded from the outside world. There were no houses anywhere close to it.

Hunk and Coran stepped out of the car, closing the door behind them with a low thud. Lance patted his hand once again, giving him some soothing solace to the emotions tumbling inside him, and stepped out of the car also, making his way to the back for their bags.

Pidge snorted awake, placing her askew glasses on her face. Looking up she let out a low whistle.

“We’re finally here,” she said, reaching a hand out to Keith’s shoulder.

Keith nodded, his gaze not breaking from the house. _This_ was where his possible mother lived.

He wanted to throw up.

The door before him opened, and the cool air whispered through his hair. Lance appeared before him, holding his bag over his shoulder. He reached out for Keith, taking his hand and ushering him out of the car.

Keith stepped onto the soft grass, feeling his feet sink somewhat in the damp mulch. Looking back up into the house he spied a figure at the upstairs window. The curtains rustled, but he didn’t see anything other than a thin silhouette.

Was that her?

He was tugged to the front door, heart beating like a jack rabbit in his chest as Coran knocked a few times on the door, in an odd sequence. Moments later, a large man opened the door. He had cropped black hair, with a few stripes of white hair that covered his forehead. There were wrinkles crinkling the corners of his dark eyes as he glowered, a sharp nose with a reddened scar crossing over it and a scowl on his lips. He had his arms crossed over his thick chest, taking over the entire entrance.

…One arm was metal…

Keith felt a sting in his head, holding onto it as it suddenly started aching, throbbing as a memory forced its way into the forefront of his mind. A heady memory of a market place and a juicy red apple in a filled wooden crate, of a large scary man holding onto him, a knife about to be sliced into him, intent to kill.

Of a low and strong voice in his ear. _“I’ll take it from here.”_

 Of thunder and lightning streaking across the skies, and him being swaddled in a warm cloak, listening to the loud and strong sounds of a heart beat in his Galran ears, soothing him, calming him, keeping him from listening to the scary storm outside.

_“Listen to my heart beating, little one,”_

Arguments loud and thunderous, but soft and loving, fighting in the hot sun or the beating rain with swords and shields, of fists and feet, of long lessons on etiquette and manners, of spending hours and hours trying to transform back and forth from his half Galran breed to the way he was now.

“Shiro…” he breathed. But then he paused. What…what had he just said? Where had that name even come from? Where had those thoughts come from?

Were they memories?

“I’m sorry,” The large man said, peering at Keith with those hardened eyes. “But the princess will not be taking in any visitors.”

_What?_

Keith wanted to tell him, wanted to ask him to give them a chance, just one chance. He just needed to speak to the princess. Just once. But the man didn’t look like he was going to budge.

Coran tried, bless the man, he did try. But Shiro was adamant; he was stubborn as he stood defiantly in the middle of the entrance. The last thing stopping Keith from meeting his mother.

If only he’d _move!_

“We didn’t get this far just for terminator to stop us,” Lance said, stepping in front of Keith. He twirled the coin in his hand and moved like lightning towards Shiro. Hunk and Pidge were close behind him.

Shiro, alarmed at the three making their way to him, poised ready for the attack. He dropped his arms to the side, reaching for his weapon, but Lance got there first. He took the coin and reached out for Shiro’s arm, yanking it down with his entire weight. He jammed the metal coin into the curve of Shiro’s arm. The metal frizzled a little, and as Shiro reached to take it out, Hunk draped his entire weight on Shiro’s back, dragging him down. Shiro bent over, trying to jostle the large man from his body, but Hunk held on tight. Pidge, quick like a fox, ducked down and wrapped her arms and legs around Shiro’s calves.

The large man fell to the ground with a resounding thud. Three bodies dog piling over him, stopping him from moving.

“Keith go!” Lance yelled.

Without thinking, Keith vaulted over them all, dropping down into the wood of the hallway. He dashed over the rug, and up the stairs. He didn’t care to take a moment and look around the house, he didn’t have the time. All he knew was the silhouette he had seen in the window upstairs. He knew he had to get to her.

He could hear the ruckus downstairs, and knew Shiro had pretty much thrown Hunk and Pidge from him, but with the way he was yelling, as was Lance, the spritely Altean was still hanging onto him for dear life. He was giving Keith the chance he needed.

Getting to the top of the stairs, Keith took in a breath. The hallway was small, and all of the doors were all closed, three in total. But with some simple calculations, he took the one on the right and pushed it open. Stepping into the room, he noticed it was a bedroom. There was a large four poster bed in the centre, a dresser on one side and a large cupboard on the other. There were all sorts of photos and pictures lining the walls and the dresser.

Pictures of…the princes…the man downstairs…and…

…and him?

Peering at the small frame on the dresser, he saw a picture of a young teenager, no older than sixteen or seventeen, standing in front of a large stage, a sparkling crown on his head. The princess was standing next to him, as was the large man with the Galran arm.

_“I present to you…Prince Keith of Altea!”_

Keith slammed his hands to his throbbing head. Dropping to his knees as the ache made him dizzy. Memories whizzed through his mind, none of them making any sense.

Dancers spinning in circles,

A crown weighing heavy on his head,

Of laughter and smiles,

The scent of wild flowers,

The thrumming of a solid heart beating in his ear,

The feel of soft, white hair under his fingertips,

The taste of sweet apples from the large fruit tree,

The cool grass under him as he gazed up at the pretty stars,

The sound of metal thudding against metal,

Of yellow eyes staring at him as he was thrown into warm arms and a familiar cloak,

The scent of wood burning filled his nose, of someone screaming, of his _mother_ screaming. She was telling him to run…she was screaming at him to get away.

“I’m sorry,” Keith screamed, holding his hands to his ears. He knew he had turned into his half breed counterpart, his ears flicked down against his head, hands pressed tight over them to stop the noises in his head. “ _Please!_ I’ll be good!”

He felt the warmth of a hand on his shoulder, of arms wrapping around him and lifting him up in their warm embrace. The scent of wild flowers were overpowering, the heavy thud of a familiar heart beating in his ear was a soothing lull from his hellish thoughts.

“No one here will hurt you, little one.” The voice was soothing, it was familiar.

Keith’s eyes closed as he let the memories wash over him, shivering as he remembered…he tried, he _tried_ to remember everything. But his head was throbbing, his thoughts were aching, his body was catatonic. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. He just stayed there, slumped in the warm embrace, in the arms wrapped around him. His fingers gripped at the soft white hair surrounding him, face burying in her chest.

“My baby,” the voice murmured, fingers running through his hair, helping him, soothing him.

Keith looked up, gazing into those beautiful eyes, seeing the familiar pink gaze overpower him. And everything came to him at once.

“Momma…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuun!
> 
> I'm going to say probably one more chapter left, maybe two at a stretch.


	12. Marmoran's and the Fall of the King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter...  
> Brace yourselves people.

Shiro lifted Lance up and threw him across the room. The Altean fell on to the comfortable looking sofa. His body bounced on the plush and he dropped to the hard wood ground with a thud, but got on his hands and feet almost immediately. He shook the pain from his head and got up on his shaking feet.

Looking back, he saw Hunk on the ground, helping Pidge, who had been thrust to the side and barrelled into the coffee table. Thankfully neither of them were hurt too badly. He had no idea where Coran had gotten to.

But he knew he had to give Keith the time to talk to the princess, and if that meant he was to keep the Terminator busy, then so be it.

With a loud cry, he barrelled, shoulder first, into Shiro’s middle. Shiro grunted, doubling over at the harsh impact. He reached his arms out flat and pushed Lance down and to the side. Lance stumbled on his feet, falling to the ground behind the large muscular man.

Shaking the pain once again, he stood up once again, but his knees faltered. He didn’t know how long he had been doing this for, but he hoped Keith had explained everything, that Keith had found his mother.

Lance would do this forever if it meant Keith was finally happy.

Forcing himself to his feet, he turned and saw Shiro charging up the stairs, he had a murderous look on his face. Lance was quick to his feet; he followed the large man up the stairs and barrelled through the doorway Shiro had gone through.

His eyes widened at what he saw. The Princess was holding onto a shifted half Galran Keith who was sitting on his knees on the ground. She was running her thin fingers soothingly through his dark hair and humming a familiar lullaby as he rested his head onto her chest, most likely listening to her heart beat. Keith’s fingers were buried in her long, curly white hair, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sniffled back sobs. His entire body was curled into hers, arms wrapped around her waist, face buried in her hair.

The princess looked up at the two, her eyes shining with unshed tears, a bright and happy smile on her face.

“My baby’s back,” she whispered adoringly, tightening her grip around Keith’s head.

Shiro seemed a bit hesitant. He slowly made his way over to her, standing tall and strong, intimidatingly so. “Are you sure it’s him?”

The princess’s face fell into a frown, her pretty pink eyes narrow. “Are you saying I wouldn’t know my own son?”

Shiro let out a loud breath and dropped to his knees. With a tentative hand, he reached out to the half Galran, not wanting to break the spell cast between the mother and son. His hand rested lightly on Keith’s back, a warm and familiar feeling erupted over him. They had done this before, when the little prince had bad dreams about his mother burning, about his _biological_ mother burning. It didn’t take a genius to understand the fact that little Keith screaming in his sleep for his mother, and waking up and running through the palace, filled with fear for his mother who, in his dreams, was burning in flames. It was not because of Allura herself burning, but whoever his biological mother was. She must have died in a fire, trying to save him.

Keith stilled as the hand rested heavy on his back. He stopped sniffling and buried his face deeper into Allura’s hair, gripping the curled ends tightly.

Allura pouted at that, pulling Keith back and looking him right in his yellowing Galran eyes. “Do you remember Shiro?”

“I’m trying, momma,” Keith said with a sniffle, clenching his eyes shut, as if his very mind pained him.

Allura wrapped him up in her warmth, telling him it was okay, that he’d figure it all out soon. It was a lot to take in, for all of them. This was the lost prince, she was sure of it. He was finally here, in her arms, safe and sound – and he had grown so much. Yet he was still the beautiful little half Galran prince she remembered him to be all those years ago.

Her Keith, her son!

Hunk and Pidge rushed into the bedroom, holding onto an unplugged desk lamp and a large wooden spoon respectively. They held their made shift weapons high in the air, ready to continue the battle that they had been in with Shiro downstairs.

They paused when they saw the calm in the room.

“Is everything okay?” Hunk asked.

Pidge slowly, ever so carefully, made her way over to Keith; she crouched down onto her knees and crawled the remainder of the way to the bed. She had grown used to this, to seeing Keith like this. Except right now, he wasn’t crying because of the memories plaguing his mind and confusing him. Now, everything was making sense to him, and it was just too overwhelming for him to take it all in.

He was going to need a moment to get his bearings. But he was finally with his mother, and Pidge was _so_ happy for him. He deserved this. She had always known he was special, without the half Galra thing. But someone worthy of the life he had forgotten about, the life they had created him up to be.

A prince.

She was best friends with a _prince!_

Hunk stood in the back, watching with tear filled eyes at the family he had remembered all those years back. He never thought they’d get here. But he was glad Lance had forced him to endure all of those auditions with those fake princes, they were able to finally find Keith.

Looking around, he frowned. “Where’s Lance?”

 

~~

 

Lance slammed the car door closed. Opening the sun visor, he found the keys in the nook. He didn’t want to look at the small mirror; he knew his eyes were bloodshot with tears he forced not to fall.

Keith was finally home with his mother. Finally with his family.

He didn’t need Lance any more.

Putting the key into the ignition, he turned it and the car puttered to life. He looked back to the road they had come from. He wasn’t able to look at the house, to see Keith looking so lost, yet so happy. Happy with a life _without_ him.

Reversing out of the house, he turned the wheel, the car following and turning around in the road.

His job was done, and he was going to leave. Hopefully, once Keith remembered his fruitful past with the princess in the palace, they’d all head back to Altea and try to overthrow the king. And maybe, finally, Altea could return to the beautiful holy city it had been all those decades ago.

And maybe when that happened, Lance would venture back into Altea, _to his home,_ and find a small house at the edge of the city and live his days watching the royal family, watch as Keith was inaugurated as the prince again. Maybe he’d find a bride to marry, and they’d live happily ever after.

_Without him._

He needed to get away from here. He’d find someplace else for now. There was no need for him anymore.

However, karma and life seemed to have other ideas. He barely ate the road in the god awful junk of a car Coran just _had_ to keep, before it stuttered to a stop a few feet away from the house.

Cutting the ignition, he growled. Slamming his hands on the wheel, he laid his head back on the seat, staring out into the darkening skies. Why…why was this happening to him? Why was life being so cruel to him? All he wanted to do was get away from the man he loved, the man who didn’t want, nor needed him anymore.

Was this karma’s way of paying him back for all of the cons he had done in the past? Had he really been _that_ bad of a man to warrant something like this?

Knowing he wasn’t going to get any answers sitting in a dead car, nor was he going to get anywhere by walking. He opened the car door, got out and slammed it shut behind him. His shoes squelched on the mulch road as he made his way back to the house. There was nowhere else to go, no other house for miles, and he didn’t have a death wish to steal Shiro’s car.

No one wanted to die in their sleep.

He pushed the house door open and stepped back inside. The bottom floor was empty, just like he had left it moments before. Setting the sofa the right way up – after having been barrelled into it by Terminator Shiro – he sat on the soft plush. Laying his head back on the sofa, he let the day wash over him, bracing himself for the rejection he was surely going to get.

“There you are,”

He hadn’t expected Keith to show up, standing at the stairs, leaning over the balusters, his hand reaching out for him.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” Lance murmured, this was probably where Keith was going to tell him he wasn’t needed any more.

“Come and meet my mother,” he said, his eyes shining red with shed tears.

Lance felt something warm grow deep in his chest, heating him up and making him feel light and airy. He got up and reached out for Keith’s outstretched hand. He tried to force himself to know this was most likely leading to rejection. But looking at Keith, seeing his beautiful smile, one that reached all the way into his pretty eyes, all thoughts disappeared.

Keith’s hands were slightly clammy, but warm as they wrapped tight around Lance’s fingers. The half Galran tugged him up into the bedroom. Lance followed, unable to do anything else.

“This is Lance,” Keith said, pushing the Altean forward.

Lance scratched the back of his head hesitantly, he still wasn’t sure what his stand was here. Allura may not remember him, not many people of the Palace of the Lions did. If it weren’t for his Altean markings…

“ _You,_ ” Allura stood, pointing a dainty finger at him, her eyes wide, as was her mouth. Lance stood worried, pointing to himself. “I know it was you,”

“Me?”

Allura reached for him then, pulling him into a fierce hug. Lance suddenly understood why Keith had been wrapped in Allura’s embrace for so long. A thick, warm and loving feeling erupted in him. Her arms were wrapped around him so desperately, tears falling from her eyes.

“Thank you,” She whispered, tear filled cries released from her pretty lips. “You saved my baby, you saved us _all!”_

Tears pricked at the corners of Lance’s eyes. _She remembered!_

The princess remembered his sacrifice, she remembered his martyrdom for them. But that also meant she remembered him lying to her son, lying to them all, deserting them in their time of need.

Keith reached for him, fingers slipping into his hand and squeezing tight. Peering at him, Lance sucked in a breath. Keith looked happy, _with him there._ He had his mother, he had his family, and yet he looked so much more elated, so much happier, because _he was there too._

He finally, _finally_ was where he belonged.

“So what should we do now?” Pidge asked, getting up from the ground. He had taken to the spot by the bed, nearest to Keith when he had been with Allura. But ever since he had escaped from her grasp, telling her he had someone very important to show her, she had settled onto the plush carpet, waiting for the scene to unfold.

She knew how much Keith and Lance loved one another, even a blind person could see the sheer amount of love and hope between the two. There was something between them, something profound, that settled deep in her heart and gave her hope.

If they could do this, if they could reunite Keith with his family after fifteen years, then she would be able to find her brother. She’d be reunited with her family as well.

“Pidge has a point,” Coran’s voice came from the entrance. He held an envelope tight to his chest. “And I think we should take back the palace,”

 

~~

 

The Blades of Marmora.

That’s what they were called. The small group of full blooded Galran’s – not that there were any other kind – that created the resistance faction of fellow Galran’s against King Zarkon and those who were loyal to him.

With cloaks wrapped around their bodies, and hoods covering their faces, Keith took a tight hold of Lance’s hand, as they followed Shiro and Allura, both who were taking the task seriously – more seriously than he imagined. After all, fifteen years had passed, and they chose now, when he had come back, to take back the kingdom.

Did he instil that much confidence and bravery in his mother?

He squeezed Lance’s hand for assurance, feeling him return the grip. For some reason Keith had an ache in his heart, something that told him to not let the Altean out of his sight.

They stopped at the mountainous ravines of Arus, just by the outpost of Altea. The forest surrounding the area was dead, the branches sharp and destructive. The very ground that had once been filled with lush green and muddy browns was a black ash, the entire entrance to the city of Altea looked like a wasteland.

This was where Zarkon had entered Altea all those years ago.

At least, that’s what Shiro had told them. They stepped a light foot onto the black ash, feeling it crumble all the more underneath their soles. Keith felt a chill shudder through his body, and he tightened his grip on Lance’s hand. He felt his mothers’ presence beside him, and Shiro’s before him. He was caged in by protectors on all fronts, and though he was happy for that, he really wished they’d take care for themselves too. He expected them to circle the princess, she was the most important out of them all. But that didn’t seem to be true, not with the way Allura was holding the blade to her side, ready to attack if need be.

He was still just Keith. Regardless of only recently finding out he was the lost prince. He didn’t want anyone getting hurt because of him. He had said so, but the six still surrounded him, protecting him from any threat.

Clutching his cloak closer to his shivering body, he followed as they made their way deeper into the Galran taken Altea. Many moments of walking in the silent, dead forest, they reached an alcove. It was hidden from sight, however Shiro bee lined straight for it.

The ash looked undisturbed around the alcove, and when Shiro made his way through it, he left no footprints in his wake. Surprised, Keith walked over it too, it definitely didn’t feel like the ash that surrounded the forest. It was a hard, solid feel, like tarmac, yet his feet still sunk somewhat into it. If no one was paying any real attention to it, they would mistake it for actual ash.

He smirked. The resistance was good at keeping themselves hidden from patrolling Galran’s. Shiro knelt down onto the ground, searching for something. When he found it, a small square slip of the ground before them slid open, a set of steps leading down into darkness.

“Alright, let’s go.” Shiro ordered, standing before them and making his way down the steps first. Allura followed after, as did Coran, Pidge, Hunk, Keith and Lance in tow.

The overpowering scent of earth filled Keith’s nostrils, and he weaned a slight cough into the darkness. Opening his eyes, he knew he had most likely shifted into his Galran form, as he was able to see a lot more clearly in the pitch dark.

Shiro seemed to move something, though it wasn’t quite as easy to see from where he was near the back. But suddenly, a blade sliced out of his arm, glowing with an odd green black colour. It lit up the area like a fluorescent green glow stick.

They reached the other end of the long corridor they were walking in. They were greeted by a metal door. Shiro tapped a rhythm onto the metal, and the door swung open to reveal a large man in a black cloak. His head was covered with a hood, much like theirs, but his face had a mask on it, with strange white lines around the eyes and cheeks.

This was the resistance.

“You made it,” the man said, his voice clear through the mask. He reached to shake Shiro’s hand and tugged him in through the threshold. “Come inside,”

The others followed Shiro and the cloaked man until they reached another set of doors. These doors had two other members of the resistance standing guard. The first man nodded to them and the two placed their hands on a screen on either side of the doors. The door before them slid open to reveal a large war room.

There were many Galran’s walking in and out around the room, each chattering or looking at monitors and screens. It was teeming with life, and it was impossible to really pin point any one thing. There were monitors all over one wall, a large oval shaped table with papers and maps strewn over it. The other Galran’s in the room stopped, looking up at the seven that had arrived.

“Welcome to the Blade of Marmora,” The first man said, taking off his mask to show a full blooded Galran, he had pointed ears and a slow smile. “My name is Thace,”

Allura nodded, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Your majesty,” Thace said, taking her hand and bowing his head to the back of her palm. “Thank you for gracing us with your presence,” – he looked back at Keith. “And this must be the lost prince?”

Allura held a hand out before him, still unsure of his safety here, but nodded. “He is indeed,”

Looking at her narrow gaze, the gaze of a mother who would do anything for her child, even kill, Thace backed away.

“I believe we should make haste with the regicide,” Thace said, motioning for them to follow him into the recesses of the war room. Shuffling through the papers on the table, he slid the map of the Castle of Lion’s, there were crosses and circles in major points, lines and arrows pointing in many directions.

He explained each and every thing on the map to Shiro and the others. Keith looked down to the map, memories slowly emerging in his mind, as if a mist was dissipating around them. He couldn’t really remember much, but he braced himself for when he got to the castle. If a map was dredging up lost memories, being in the castle itself would definitely do the same. Maybe even more violently.

Hours after they had sorted the plan out, Keith and the others had been dressed in armour and given weapons they were able to fully use and work with. Which was why Keith had a large blade in his hand; it felt heavy, but not enough to be considered a hindrance, like an extension of his hand.

Looking up, he saw Lance had a gun, Pidge had opted for a katan and Hunk was lugging a large hammer like sword. Shiro kept to his Galran arm, fitting a blade to its edge, while Allura stayed with her blade. Coran was going to stay with the Marmora, looking at the maps and giving them all the information they needed when they were inside.

They were ready.

 

~~

 

Regicide.

Who would have thought he’d be here, infiltrating a Galran overrun palace with his lover by his side, and his best friend.

Lance looked back to Keith, seeing the prince holding onto the sword as if it were a part of him. He had a terrifying look of murder in his yellowing eyes. The gun in his hand was light – much more than he expected, but it would do for what they had planned.

The plan was simple, they would split up in twos and take down the small groups of Galran’s that situated the major areas, slip in easily to the main throne room and then take down the king, _together._

With Coran in his ear, Keith stood as close to him as possible, and Lance had to admit, he didn’t mind one bit. Seeing his love in such tight fitting black armour was _doing_ things to him. Things that he would sear into his memory and replay again and again once Keith told him to leave.

But right now, they had bigger things to worry about.

The Galran sentries were upon them, coming from the darkened hallways. Keith and Lance were on them, hacking and slashing through the metallic Galran’s, making them fall in heaps and bolts. Their blades and bullets cut through the sentries like butter.

But Keith knew there was something there. Something was _still_ wrong. He wanted to reach out for Lance, keep him close. But they didn’t have the chance to now. So instead, he kept a close eye on his love. Whatever it was that had Lance all riled up and distant, he was going to try and destroy it. Much like the sentries they were slicing through.

They met up with Pidge and Hunk at the vantage point. Coran had been informing them all about what may have been on the other side of the large door they had stopped at.

“…at least thirty more…” Coran’s voice came in every once in a while, most likely to everyone in the party. “Lance, take Keith inside, Shiro and the Marmora’s have taken them down.”

Lance grasped Keith’s hand, pushing the door open to see the carnage inside. Keith watched Shiro’s blade leave the metallic sentry, sparks flying everywhere as it fell to its knees, shorted out. He looked up at them, motioning them closer. Between them was at least eight Marmora Clan Galran’s’, each slicing and hacking their way through the many sentries surrounding them. They were well aware on how the sentries and Galran’s moved, so it was easy for them all to anticipate their moves. On the other side of the room was Allura, standing by another sentry, having swiped her knife through its head, slicing it off until it fell with a thud.

“We’ve got to get to the king,” Allura said, reaching her hand out for her son, motioning him closer. Keith, pulling Lance with him, made his way to his mother and Shiro. The Marmoran’s nodded, following the princess.

Hunk placed his hand on Keith’s arm, and they made their way through the last large door leading – most likely – to the throne room. Keith’s mind was suddenly filled with the remnant thoughts and memories of running through here as a child, being reprimanded for not acting like a prince by Hunk.

The sudden thrashing images almost brought him to his knees, but he kept on going forward. They found themselves in a large dining room, but it was completely empty, and pitch black. There wasn’t a soul in sight.

“This can’t be right,” Shiro murmured, looking around in case they were ambushed. Zarkon must have known they were on their way, and he was ready. That _must_ be the reason.

Lance shrugged his shoulders, holding his free hand to his hip, finger on the trigger of his gun. “Maybe they’re having a cigarette break?”

“Not funny,” Keith replied, walking over to one of the chairs, seeing a huge pile of black dust on the plush. He reached for it, but was stopped by Thace.

“I wouldn’t,” he stated, scanning the dust with a metal contraption, he took a quick check of the reading and pulled Keith behind him. “I have figured out why it’s so dark,”

Keith turned, interested to know how an eclipse could happen in the middle of the day, and only to one room in the entire castle.

“Don’t breathe in too deeply,” he stated.

Pidge gagged, holding a hand to her mouth. “Is that Galran ash?”

“As in…” Hunk almost retched alongside her. “That was once a full blooded Galran?”

They heard a cry of pain, followed by something thudding onto the ground a few feet away. Shiro held his arm out before him, his blade glowing that tinge of green, like a torch light.

Lance held his phaser out, pulling Keith behind him as they followed the sound. They turned the corner and peered over one of the large wing back seats to see yet another large pile of Galran ash.

“We need to get out of here,” Allura stated, holding her gun out into the darkness. “We need to find Zarkon,”

Shiro nodded. “Let’s move.”

Keith’s ears twitched at the silence. He turned his head slightly to the sound, trying to figure out just what it was, but the dark mist obscured his vision. His dark eyes narrowed and he reached around Lance. Standing behind the Altean, he held Lance’s gun out, holding it together, and aimed at the darkness surrounding them. A spear of a bullet shot out and stabbed the mist. Satisfied with the shriek, followed by a thud, he placed his forehead on Lance’s shoulder.

If he hadn’t heard that, Lance would have been a goner.

“Wow…” Lance seemed breathless. His voice silenced the dining area.

Shiro patted Keith on his shoulder, hoping they wouldn’t run into any more sentries or Galran’s. Obviously Zarkon knew where they were, and he was most likely waiting for them. And he really didn’t want his princess and the prince to be in any more danger than they already were.

The mist slowly cleared away and more than twenty inhumanly black sentries appeared. They surrounded the party, pale white eyes contrasting greatly against the darkness that suddenly raided over the mist.

“Get ready,” Shiro said, reaching for his sword.

And then everything happened at once. The sentries accumulated around them, vaulting up and attacking. But they were much faster. Working as a group, they stood in a wide circle, attacking, slicing, shooting and hammering their weapons at the sentries. One by one the sentries jumped, and one by one they fell. Once all of the sentries were down, they heaped in a large pile on the floor, disappearing like ash. The only known sign that there even had been a struggle or a fight was the tell-tale indication of the smoke dissipating from the once white tile.

“I’m really starting to hate these metal-heads,” Hunk muttered, placing his weapon in its holster.

Keith sucked in a breath, his ears twitching as he heard a familiar voice calling to him. He scrabbled his hand back, reaching for anyone. He met Allura’s sleeve and tugged on the dark cloak.

_“I see you…”_

“Was that…?” Pidge asked, having heard the voice too.

Shiro nodded. They followed as he went deeper into the castle. They had to find Zarkon and put an end to all of this. Walking out of the dining area and into the hallways, they hacked their way through the sentries until they finally reached the gardens, where Zarkon was waiting for them.

The gardens were breath taking. And they dredged up too many memories for Keith to even be able to decipher. But he took his memories and used them. This was his home, this was his castle. He wasn’t going to let Zarkon reign over what was his. Not anymore.

A stone pathway was before them, leading to an opening at the opposite side of the large garden, bordered by beautiful wild flowers that were wilting. Large rose bushes grew withering at the edges, stone archways rose out and curved over them, honeysuckle and oleander vines hugging them. In the very centre of the garden was a pond that boasted many types of decaying water plants and lilies. There were trees of cherry blossoms and peonies that had bloomed full and were falling, leading to a small hill, _their hill,_ the one Keith and Lance would lay on and stare at the beauty of the stars. That was where they found Zarkon.

He stood in all of his majestic glory, a long cape billowing behind him, looking every bit like the villain in storybooks and novels. Surrounding him were hundreds of sentries and Galran’s, all ready to fight.

Shiro yelled for them to be ready for the foe that was about to oppose them. Weapons out, they waited in the silence. Not a single word was uttered.

And then Zarkon’s gaze roved over the party, resting directly at Keith. He not so much as moved, but glided over the grass, one finger raised to Keith. Suddenly everything froze around him. And the Galran half breed was back in his dreams, surrounded by thick and lush forestry, unable to move as the oily slick feeling of vines surrounded him, wrapping around his body and throat, stopping him from talking, stopping him from breathing.

He knew he had shifted without having to see himself. His claws dug into the vines, but he was only met with pain, as if he were clawing into himself. His ears dropped down and he whimpered at the pain.

“Half breed,” Zarkon spoke, his vice so grated and low, as if the very word was sickening to him. “You’re a freak, an abomination.”

Keith struggled, but the vines only tightening.

“Your whore of a mother fell in love with a human of all things,” Zarkon continued, his hand still raised, finger still pointed directly at Keith, keeping him immobile as he slowly, ever so slowly, made his way closer and closer to Keith. “I destroyed those humans and their little island. Those repulsive wastes of flesh were so easy to kill,”

He was directly in front of Keith know, his purple lips wide in a smirk as he remembered and revelled in the genocide he and his kind had committed.

“I killed your mother too,” Zarkon said so nonchalantly, as if it were an afterthought. As if Keith didn’t feel his memories return and plague into his mind, eating away at him as he remembered. _Oh god,_ did he remember. The house, his mother, lying on the ground, blood pooling around her and staining the wood, screaming at him; _run, my baby! Run!_

Keith tried to scream, wanting to reach out for his mother, but no sound came out. He struggled, feeling the thorny vines cut into his skin, pierce into his flesh. It hurt, it ached. His body, his mind, his memories.

_Momma!_

“She cared for you so much,” Zarkon continued, watching with abject glee as Keith struggled. “She gave you a chance to run,”

_Run, my baby! Run!_

Tears welled and streamed down Keith’s face as the memory of his mother, falling to the ground, blood pouring from her mouth. She had pushed him away, pushed him towards the door, holding back the sentries, keeping the Galran’s away.

“…Momma…” he cried, harsh, heavy tears falling. His throat was hoarse, even though he hadn’t uttered a word.

“Did you watch her die? Did you see your home, _your_ _life,_ burn?” Zarkon was directly in front of him now, watching him with mirth filled yellow eyes. “Her screams were like music to my ears,”

A hot white heat ran through him, boiling him up from the inside.

“I’ll do the same to your new family,” Zarkon flicked his finger and Keith was suddenly thrown to his knees, the vines tightening around him, turning red with his blood.

Bright, effervescent light blinded him, and he smelled the smoke and fire before he saw it. His friends, his family, _burning!_ The fire ate through their still bodies, licking at their skin and tearing through their flesh. The sight was sickening, the scent was horrid. And yet all Keith could do was watch, trapped by the oily slick of the vines.

He screamed, and screamed, and screamed until his throat cracked, until his body sagged with the exhaustion of it. But he didn’t stop. He struggled with the bonds, the thorns sticking and stabbing into him. But still he screamed, until there was no voice left any more.

The silence that followed his silence was deafening to his ears.

So lost in his mind, he didn’t notice the sounds around him. Someone was yelling his name, someone was shaking him. But no…everything… _everything_ was gone…

He felt soft heat on his lips, and a familiar voice whispering his name in a harsh crack. The sound was a solace against the darkness.

Opening his sagged and yellow eyes, he saw Lance’s beautiful blue eyes before him, warm hands digging tight to his head, foreheads resting on one another. They were breathing the same air. Lance… _Lance!_ He was completely unscathed and unharmed.

Looking up, he saw he wasn’t in the middle of the battlefield any more. Lance had hauled him to the other side of the hill, laying him down against the dewy grass. He looked up to the starry skies and let out a breath.

“ _Quiznak_ Keith!,” Lance said, wrapping his arms around the half Galran, head buried in the curve of his neck, lips pressing feverish kisses to his skin as he spoke. “You just froze, and then you fell to your knees and started screaming…there was so much blood…”

Keith could hear the sound of the battle behind him, but he was too weak to get up. He feebly pushed Lance from him, sucking in a lung full of breath. He turned and crawled up the hill, looking down to the battle below.

Shiro and Zarkon were at an odd, swords clashing together with in a mighty clang of metal against metal. The others were fighting the hundreds of sentries that had them surrounded. Many had fallen to the ground, crumpled in heaps, but still breathing, unconscious.

“We’ve got to help him,” Keith said, his voice still cracked and harsh. He tried to get up, to get out and fight. He had barely done anything other than kill a few metal sentries. He needed to be there, he needed to make sure everyone was okay.

But…he just _couldn’t move._ Zarkon had done something to him. It was as if he had sucked all the energy out of him.

Lance was there with him, he reached for Keith, holding onto his hand.

“If we get through this,” he started, looking deep into his loves dark eyes, “Remind me to thank you,”

“Thank me?” Keith asked, wincing as Shiro was pushed down to his knees by the sheer force of the Galran. But he quickly caught his stance and pushed back. It was amazing to watch those two in the throes of battle.

“For everything,” Lance continued, reaching for his gun. He aimed it at the fight below, taking a deep breath. “For letting me love you.”

The sound of the bullet leaving the gun was deafening. It was as if lightning fissured around them both, ricocheting in a straight line towards the Galran. The bullet his dead on Zarkon’s back, making him scream and falter back into the wind whipped earth underneath him.

Shiro was ready, he held his sword up in the air and sliced it through.

Zarkon…was dead. _Finally._

“We did it,” Keith breathed, forcing himself onto his knees, but he didn’t get very far. He collapsed onto the grass, turning to look up at the starry night sky. He had lost too much blood.

Lance nodded, curling his body around the half Galran. Keith’s skin was pale and cold, so he held on tight, wrapping Keith against him, pressing those cat-like ears to his chest, letting Keith hear his heart thrumming, for him.

Keith felt so warm like this, his memories returning slowly and surely, like a slow trickling wave of water, flooding into his mind with their heat and warmth. He took in Lance’s scent and let his tense body relax.

Zarkon was dead.

He had found his mother.

Lance was by his side.

He was a _prince._

“Keith!” He heard Allura yell in the distance.

“Momma!” Keith croaked out. He wanted to see her, but he couldn’t move very well, he had no strength to do anything but lay there, watching the beautiful stars with his love.

Lance held him up then, curling his arms around Keith’s purpling body and dragging him up onto shaky feet. Keith looked up through bleary eyes and saw his mother running to him. Her hair was in disarray and her body had a few patches of red blood on her. He hoped it wasn’t mostly her blood, but he knew it probably wasn’t. His mother was a bad ass.

She carefully pulled him close, curling her body around his and holding him tight. She had seen him fall to the ground, screaming as his body erupted with blood, skin and clothes staining red. But she couldn’t do anything, the sentries had awakened and were advancing. She had been so glad when Lance had hauled him up, holding his gun out and shooting at any and all sentries and Galran’s that came in his way.

She was okay with leaving her son in his hands. She knew he would be safe. The look on Lance’s eyes as he hacked his way through the Galran’s, not caring who fell, as long as they dropped to the ground and didn’t get back up.

There was true love there, between them both. And she was so, so, _so_ happy her son had found someone worthy of him.

Her poor baby. Tears had shed from his pretty eyes, he curled into her, fingers clutching the ends of her hair. She lifted him up a little, holding him close as she ran her fingers through his hair, tsking at the scar on his ear. The scar she had patched up when he first came to her, begging her not to kill him.

Her baby boy. She finally had her baby boy safe in her arms.

And now, they had their home. Looking back to the destruction on the dew grass of the royal gardens, she sucked in a deep breath as the Marmoran’s ushered the injured Galran’s out of the castle, cuffing them and escorting them to the dungeons.

Zarkon was dead, and the castle was finally hers again.

Looking down to Keith, she pressed her lips to his hair, murmuring soothing words as he cried into her chest.

Finally…

 

~~

 

A full year had passed since the battle. And it was as if a powerful force had fallen pleasantly over the city. The ash black grass had grown lush around Altea now that it had people to tend to it. Many Altean’s had returned, ready to help bring their city back to the beauty it once was.

“Prince Keith!” Hunk yelled as he ran after the half Galran speeding through the hallways of the Castle of the Lions. “You shouldn’t be running! He’ll be there no matter what.”

But Keith wasn’t listening. He followed the familiar path out to the grassy hill. The sun was shining bright in the beautiful blue skies above. He had been planning and waiting for this day ever since he had first laid eyes on Lance, and now he was ready.

Looking back, he saw he had lost sight of Hunk, either that, or Hunk knew exactly where he was going and left him to it. Climbing the hill, he reached the top and saw Lance on the other side.

The Altean was dressed in a beautiful blue suit, memorial and war badges pressed into the pocket of the jacket. Ever since they had fought Zarkon, the princess had knighted the five, Shiro, Lance, Pidge, Hunk and himself, as the defenders of Altea. She had given each of them military badges, calling them the Paladins of the Lions – much like the very first five paladins that had protected King Golion all those years back.

Almost immediately, Shiro had courted and married Allura, much to everyone’s surprise. Not that it _was_ a surprise. He had suspected the two’s relationship ever since he had been adopted by the princess. But it was nice for them to finally be together.

However, it was still monumentally difficult to call Shiro ‘father’. However, Shiro felt the same, and instead asked for Keith to call him just by his name – they’d get to father when they were ready.

Hunk had returned back to his post as royal guard for the prince of Altea, though Keith never gave him a day of rest. Pidge had taken to the security of the castle, working alongside the Marmoran’s, ready with all sorts of contraptions to help ward off any other attacks like the Galran’s.

“My prince,” Lance said, bringing Keith out of his thoughts.

Keith tightened his grip on the gold ring he had in his hand, making his way over to his love. He had a question that he just _had_ to ask Lance. One that would change their lives for the better.

He had learned, pretty much straight away, that Lance was worried about their relationship. What with him being a prince and Lance being kitchen staff turned con man. But once Allura had knighted them – _as equals,_ Keith constantly reminded him – he was a little less worried.

However, they had waited a year, one _whole_ year before Keith considered asking. He had planned this for so long, but looking at Lance, gazing into those beautiful eyes, seeing the Altean markings around his eyes shimmer in the sunlight. All thoughts escaped his mind.

He dropped down to his knee instead, holding his hand out. Lance looked almost frightened, having expected the prince to erupt into screams again – Keith had been woken to Lance screaming in his sleep countless of times in the first few months after the battle. Hearing Lance yell his name, wanting him back, wanting him awake. Remembering the other side of the nightmarish time Zarkon had taken control of Keith.

Keith tried to speak, but words had disappeared. He held the ring out, his eyes pleading, hoping Lance would understand without the need for him to speak. But Lance stood there, frozen in time, eyes wide and shimmering with tears.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice harsh and raw. He reached for Keith then, wrapping his arms around the half Galran, pushing him down on their hill. The dew grass cushioned their fall, and Lance kissed him.

And the rest…was history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote.
> 
> It's been a fun ride. And I wanna thank everyone who's gotten this far with me. Those who kudosed, commented, bookmarked, or just read because you were a little interested.  
> Thank you all you pretty and beautiful people.

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you know, this will be slowly updated. I am trying to get the others finished at the same time, but this idea would not leave me alone.


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